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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25156621">The Unforeseen</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/VerdantVulpus/pseuds/VerdantVulpus'>VerdantVulpus</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Earthly Principalities [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman &amp; Terry Pratchett</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anal Sex, And Aziraphale's arms, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Arguments, Assault, Aziraphale is sad, Bathtub Sex, Brief description of a car accident, Brief description of prior injury, Brief discussions of Somnophilia, Carpe demon, Character Death, Confinement, Crowley is bored, Crowley likes being chased, Demon Catnip, Don't copy to another site, Electrocution, Eventual Fluff, Every Time A Bell Rings..., First Time, Flirty Aziraphale (Good Omens), Fluffy Feelings, Fussy Aziraphale (Good Omens), Gabriel is an asshole, Grief/Mourning, Hide and Seek, Honestly Thats Just Rude, Implied Drug Use, Injured Aziraphale, It's All Gonna Work Out In The End, It's just Crowley being a jerk, Kink Negotiation, Kink Shaming, Light Bondage, Lovers Being Bad Therapists, M/M, Mental Illness, Minor Character Death, Misunderstandings, NO NON CON SEX, Or At Least A Bitter Sweet Ending, Oral Sex, Original Character(s), Panic Attacks, Possible Sequel!, Psychic Fox, Resurrection, Snake Crowley (Good Omens), Snakes Can Have Eyelids If They Want It Badly Enough Ok?, Soft Crowley (Good Omens), Spoons, This Is Not A Guide For Safe Sex, This is a Novel Now, Trauma, Unexpected miracles - Freeform, We Do Not Throw Tables At The Ritz, aziraphale feels guilty, crowley is a dork, inconvenient erections, intruder in a bedroom, mild sexual harassment, so many words</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 04:07:18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>166,101</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25156621</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/VerdantVulpus/pseuds/VerdantVulpus</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Crowley hadn't had a plan for surviving the end of the world. He fully figured the world was fucked and the only thing for it was to grab the angel and flee to the stars. Plan-like, surely. Plan-adjacent. </p><p>Aziraphale had had a plan. It just wasn't a good one, due to a number of faulty assumptions and missteps both theological or literal. </p><p>It's been a few months since the world didn't end. Having been spared from destruction once, an angel and a demon have spent those few months getting pissed, getting bored, and sometimes getting downright paranoid waiting for Trouble to come knocking. </p><p>As it turns out, drunk, bored, and anxious are not the best conditions for planning. Months passed, paranoia faded, boredom rose, and when Trouble knocked, not one single better plan was anywhere to be found. </p><p>Now, Aziraphale and Crowley are once again in panic mode as they try to save (one-eight-billionth of) humanity in a short time. Above and Below have combined their considerable powers of spite and also of power, and one interesting young woman is their target. Can one angel, one demon, and each of their brain cells work through their issues while thwarting the powers that be, again?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Earthly Principalities [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2185557</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>222</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>241</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Tip Top Stories</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. A Game, Angel!</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is my first AO3 fic. I owe heaps of gratitude to my beta readers, Raechem, PinkPenguinParade, and Free_Smarcher. My love to my sisters too, who insisted I not be a coward.</p><p>Comments are definitely welcome.</p>
    </blockquote><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Crowley’s addition to the rules was to clarify that the angel wouldn’t actually win the game unless Aziraphale were able to capture him and get him to the bookshop. He couldn’t be considered “thwarted” otherwise. That had led to another long debate, but Crowley held firm to his point, positively swimming in endorphins. His nervous system seemed to really like this game. He must have been even more bored than he thought!</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em> Oh my God I'm beaten in the game of love </em>
</p><p>
  <em> And I fall down I fall down on my knees I fall </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Oh my God, I'm beaten in the game of love </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> <span class="u"> Oh My </span>by Gin Wigmore </em>
</p><p> </p><p>The quiet atmosphere of the old bookshop was disturbed by a loud sigh. There had been more than five such sighs in the last half hour. Aziraphale flipped a page, pressed his lips together, the corners of his blue eyes tightening in annoyance. Minutes passed and he was just getting absorbed into his book once more when the sigh came again. This time he tore his gaze away from his book to glare at the demon on the other side of the room.</p><p> </p><p> Crowley had done a marvelous job of melting into the old couch, limbs akimbo and his face half-buried in a cushion. Another person could be forgiven for thinking he looked incredibly comfortable, but the way his left foot kept twitching across the arm of the couch gave up the lie. That, and the constant bloody sighing.</p><p> </p><p>“What is bothering you now, dear?” the angel asked, marking his place in the book with a finger. There was a muttered reply, mostly muffled by the upholstery.</p><p> </p><p>“Crowley, would you kindly try that again?”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley peeled his head and shoulders away from the couch and answered a little louder than strictly necessary.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m <em> bored </em>!”</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale blinked at him slowly. <em> Bored. He’s bored. Of course he’s bored.  </em></p><p> </p><p>Crowley stared back at him, unblinking, expectant, and this time it was Aziraphale who sighed, replacing his finger with a bookmark and setting his book down on the table beside his teacup. He rubbed his hands on his thighs distractedly. Crowley’s eyes followed the movement.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m very sorry you are bored. I know I cannot entice you to read with me— ” Crowley gave an indignant snort and the angel continued. “Perhaps, you’d rather return to your flat and listen to your records?”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley finally did blink then, his eyebrows drawn low over his golden eyes at this apparently inadequate suggestion. He punctuated his disapproval with a dramatic flop of his body back to the cushions.</p><p> </p><p>“Wot’s the point in going to my flat, Angel? I’ll just be bored <em> there </em>.”</p><p> </p><p>“Well what do you want to do, Crowley?” Aziraphale retorted. He reached for the teacup and took a sip to wet his throat. The tea was poured more than an hour ago, but it was still steaming, as expected. </p><p> </p><p>Crowley sighed again, and Aziraphale felt his back tighten at the sound. </p><p><em> Of course he’s bored </em>. It shouldn’t matter to Aziraphale that Crowley was bored. That Crowley apparently found him boring. It shouldn’t matter to him at all.</p><p> </p><p>“Are <em> you </em> not bored, Angel?” </p><p> </p><p>“You know me, dear. Always happy with a cup, a book, and some nibbles.”</p><p> </p><p>“Right. Yeah.” Crowley turned his head to look at him and Aziraphale forced himself to meet that gaze. “But, I don’t know — don’t you miss the thwarting?”</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale was so surprised by that question he forgot to be cross.</p><p> </p><p>“Do I miss the, the <em> thwarting </em>?” he repeated, bewildered.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, Well…” Crowley stretched and rolled onto his back, breaking eye contact, his face slightly flushed.</p><p> </p><p>“We stopped the End of Everything and that’s great and all. Love still having a world to exist in. And I’m definitely glad not to be at Hell’s beck and call anymore, don’t get me wrong— ”</p><p> </p><p>“Crowley, are you trying to tell me that you miss spreading evil?”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley sat up as if he'd been stung and glared.</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t miss <em> evil </em> , Angel,” he sneered. “And besides, I wasn’t really spreading <em> evil </em>, you know. Just causing trouble. Cocking things up every now and then.”</p><p> </p><p>“To deliver souls to damnation.”</p><p> </p><p>“That was my bloody job, wasn’t it?” Crowley spat, throwing up his hands as if Aziraphale was somehow insulting him with facts. </p><p> </p><p><em>Honestly</em>. <em>So</em> <em>dramatic</em>.   Aziraphale put his teacup back on its saucer and turned so he was facing his friend.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m afraid I don’t understand. Why don’t you tell me what it is you miss as I cannot believe you miss being thwarted by me.”  He smiled just a little then, “Although I really was quite good at it.”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley stopped glaring finally and let his eyes wander along the dusty bookshelves behind the angel. Aziraphale waited, the very picture of patience, as his friend sorted his thoughts.</p><p>They’d both been cast adrift mere months ago, both head offices declaring them <em> caelites-non-grata. </em> Aziraphale had to admit he found the freedom frightening at first. Crowley had been just as on edge, always expecting an attack around every corner. They had been constantly vigilant for six months and yet there wasn’t so much as a peep from Heaven or Hell. They were still determined to keep a low profile, all the same, which he supposed exasperated the demon's restlessness. </p><p> </p><p>"S'pose I miss the game,” Crowley mumbled at last. </p><p> </p><p>"My dear boy. It was never a <em> game </em>. Thwarting you was my divine responsibility!" Aziraphale exclaimed.</p><p> </p><p>"You’d try to thwart <em> me </em> .  I'd evade <em> you </em>, using all my demonic wiles and stir up all manner of mischief," Crowley continued, smirking now as he levered his long body off the couch. "Sometimes right under your cute stupefied nose.” He winked.</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale felt himself blush.  "Stupefied! Really!"</p><p> </p><p>Did Crowley just say his nose was cute?</p><p> </p><p>"Oh, don't get upset, Angel. As you said, you weren't terrible at thwarting me,” Crowley stuck his hands in his pockets and shrugged then.  "That's what made it fun."</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale pursed his lips again but decided to let the "not terrible" comment slide.</p><p> </p><p>"I'm afraid I'm still not sure what you are getting at, Crowley. Surely you don't <em> want </em> me to thwart you."</p><p> </p><p>Crowley resumed his unblinking stare, hands in his pockets, shoulders hunched. He shifted his weight from foot to foot, swaying slightly back and forth. The effect was mesmerizing and Aziraphale absently wondered if the demon were trying to lull him somehow when — </p><p>"Sod it!" the demon exclaimed. "I think I just might."</p><p> </p><p>The angel arched a snowy eyebrow at his friend, allowing a huff of incredulous laughter to pass his lips as he turned back to his tea and away from the ridiculous serpent. Crowley bounced on the balls of his feet a couple times, a sharp-toothed grin forming on his face. When Aziraphale refused to look at him he clapped his hands once with enthusiasm and marched right up to the angel and stole the tea cup right out of his soft hands.</p><p> </p><p>"Crowley!"</p><p> </p><p>"A game, Angel!"</p><p> </p><p>"Absolutely not! I may no longer be a Principality, but I cannot excuse you tempting humans to harm simply because you are bored!"</p><p> </p><p>Crowley hissed at him and Aziraphale swatted his arm.</p><p> </p><p>"It's no fun bringing humans into it anyway, Angel. Too much like work, that."</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale glared at the demon suspiciously. Crowley took a coy sip of the tea, grimacing at the sweetness before wiggling onto the settee beside the angel and making him squeak.</p><p> </p><p>“What I am proposing, my dear Angel,” Crowley began in an exaggerated imitation of Aziraphale’s plummy accent, “Is a game of hide-and-go-seek.”</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale retrieved the teacup from Crowley and set it aside. It was all well and good for the angel to use it as a prop for stalling or being coy but he could not handle seeing it called out so. <em> Honestly, how rude. </em> Besides, a game of hide-and-go-seek with the demon did seem entertaining, if somewhat childish. He smiled warmly at Crowley’s mischievous smirk.</p><p> </p><p>“I suppose this is a version where you do all the hiding and I do the seeking?” Aziraphale asked, wondering why his pulse seemed to beat a little harder at the prospect.</p><p> </p><p>“‘Course! It’ll be like a proper demon hunt, yeah? I use my wiles to escape your angelic clutches lest you vanquish me and all that.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh!” Aziraphale jumped to his feet and paced away. It was suddenly far too warm.</p><p> </p><p>“I’d never vanquish you though, Crowley. You know that.”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, I mean, I’m hardly inclined to let you in any case.”</p><p> </p><p>“No, I mean, it won’t work, Crowley. Don’t you see? We could both just cheat our way through this game and it would always be a stalemate, as it was before we made the Arrangement. We both have miracles at our disposal and anything you or I could do to circumvent that could really harm the other’s corporation!”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley rolled his eyes at that.  “Well of course there would have to be rules around miracles, eh? Can’t be using too many of those anyway. Not supposed to be drawing attention to ourselves if you recall.”</p><p> </p><p>Aziaphale crossed his arms, pouting slightly.  “And you’ll obey these rules, will you?”</p><p> </p><p>“Are you suggesting I’m a poor sport?” Crowley laughed.</p><p> </p><p>“You are a demon,” Aziraphale pointed out.</p><p> </p><p>“So it has been said. But I am a <em> bored </em> demon, Angel.”</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale shifted his weight and absently rubbed his hands over his hips, thinking. Crowley’s eyes followed the movement.</p><p> </p><p>“I suppose it might be... fun, come to think of it.”</p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p> </p><p>Crowley sipped his wine without tasting it. He was perched astride his chair, lazily drawing symbols in a small journal. He was hiding out, obeying the rules like a good boy, and the waiting was teetering on the edge of discorporating him. He’d been coming to Salt &amp; Smoke Bistro for a couple days; sometimes ordering coffee, sometimes wine, always pretending to write to keep the humans from bothering him or getting curious. Especially now since he was currently the only customer in the place. The seat he’d selected faced away from the large sunny window and everytime someone entered the bistro he’d jump a little, his blood racing. It was dangerous to face away from the window. He was finally 76% certain Hell had lost interest in him but that pesky 24% told him to keep his eyes on the bloody window. He ignored it though because it was far better to believe the only one hunting him was Aziraphale. The angel could be closing in; he’d left enough clues. Any minute now he might catch a scent of tea and dusty books and suddenly he’d have to bolt.</p><p> </p><p> Maybe the angel would chase him. </p><p> </p><p>His heart thumped loudly in his ears and the glass cracked slightly under his tightened grip causing Crowley to hastily miracle it back to rights. He was grateful for the warm sun on his back to help ease the tension across his shoulders. He sipped the wine again, absently watching the new girl wipe down the counter, and wondered where Aziraphale was right now.</p><p> </p><p>It had been a week since they cemented the rules of the game, the angel examining every step with the careful scrutiny it absolutely did not deserve. </p><p> </p><p>Crowley’s hiding places had to be confined to London, and only to locations they had been to together at least a few times. Crowley happily agreed to this since the two of them had racked up a massive number of such locations over the centuries thus giving him a number of exploitable loopholes if he needed them. Aziraphale had also insisted that Crowley’s flat would be off limits to the angel and Crowley should feel safe to return there at any time.</p><p> </p><p><em> It is cold and there could be snow, </em> Aziraphale had fretted, wringing his hands nervously. <em> You know how you are in the damp, Crowley. I couldn’t stand you being so miserable. You need a safe place to get warm and dry and take a kip if you would like one. </em></p><p> </p><p>Crowley smiled at the memory. It had annoyed him to no end at the time, Aziraphale fussing like an old hen, as if Crowley wasn’t a millennia-old demon perfectly capable of taking care of himself for the duration of the game. So annoying. He had no idea why it kept making him smile.</p><p> </p><p>Crowley’s addition to the rules was to clarify that the angel wouldn’t actually win the game unless Aziraphale were able to capture him and get him to the bookshop. He couldn’t be considered “thwarted” otherwise. That had led to another long debate, but Crowley held firm to his point, positively swimming in endorphins. His nervous system seemed to really like this game. He must have been even more bored than he thought!</p><p> </p><p>The major rule though was regarding the use of miracles. For the purposes of the game they had one miracle each to use as they saw fit. One measly miracle to save until necessary, and otherwise he was to rely on his wits and his wiles.</p><p> </p><p>Easy enough, especially since Aziraphale was apparently absolute bollocks at this <em>seeking</em> business.</p><p> </p><p>The clatter of a dropped piece of cutlery sounded by the counter. It wasn’t really enough to draw Crowley’s attention away from the cock and balls he was doodling in the notebook, but the string of absolutely filthy cursing that followed was. He stared at the new girl, his eyebrows high. She snatched the spoon off the floor with another swear before seemingly realizing what she was doing and casting an apprehensive glance his way. He let his lips curl up into a grin. She flushed bright pink and pulled her light brown braid over her shoulder, tucked the spoon into her apron and cleared her throat before coming over to his table. Her name tag read “Thea.”</p><p> </p><p>“Hi,” she smiled brightly, a hip to the side and her voice tinged in embarrassment.</p><p> </p><p>“Hi!” Crowley echoed, still grinning wickedly.</p><p> </p><p>“Sorry about that. That was a bit unprofessional.”</p><p> </p><p>“A bit,” Crowley agreed, welcoming this distraction. </p><p> </p><p>“First day,” she said.</p><p> </p><p>“Is it?”</p><p> </p><p>Thea smiled again, this time a bit more naturally.  “Can I get you another glass of wine while I beg you to not tell my manager about my tantrum?”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley pretended to consider this. He noted her American accent and easy posture, and finally noticed through the tint of his glasses that her eyes were different colours. One hazel, one grey. He found her oddly charming. Maybe he just had a soft spot for weird eyes. “That would be great, yeah.”</p><p> </p><p>She took up his glass with a smirk of thanks and hurried to the bar, saying “I am really grateful for this job and the timing of it all kind of fell into my lap so I’d really like to not get fired if that’s possible.”</p><p> </p><p>“Ah, don’t worry about it. I love a good bit of swearing personally. Good for you, I say.”</p><p> </p><p>She laughed, and brought him his wine. “Nice glasses.”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley arched an eyebrow, trying to judge if she were flirting with him. He didn’t sense any lust. Good. He wasn’t in the mood.</p><p> </p><p>“Most people don’t appreciate them. I get all sorts of dirty looks wearing them indoors.”</p><p> </p><p>Thea shrugged.  “I unironically wore butterfly clips in my hair for about a decade after it was a thing. Who am I to judge?”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley inclined his head at that, amused, then made arrangements for the bill. Thea returned to behind the counter and Crowley returned to his doodles when a rumpled angel in a tan wool coat and tartan scarf and cap slid into the chair opposite him. Crowley blinked. He hadn’t heard him come in.</p><p> </p><p>“I must say Crowley, you aren’t very good at hiding. I’m actually a little disappointed,” Aziraphale gloated.</p><p> </p><p>“I had to start being more obvious, Angel. It has been a week. I’ve even started leaving the Bentley outside to make it easier on you,” Crowley hissed, slamming the journal closed when he noticed the angel staring disdainfully at his doodles.</p><p> </p><p>“It <em> was </em>rather easy,” Aziraphale agreed, unwrapping his scarf with a smug smile. “Well, now that I’ve got you, I believe you owe me supper.”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s not the rule, Angel,” Crowley purred.</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale lashed out suddenly and grasped Crowley’s wrist above the closed journal. The suddenness made the demon jump slightly. Aziraphale’s blue eyes positively shone with glee as he pressed Crowley’s wrist down firmly. Crowley gave an experimental tug but the angel’s grip was like steel. Oh. The angel was strong. He swallowed. His heart was hammering away again. Crowley was <em>enjoying </em>this more than he thought he would. He swallowed again.</p><p> </p><p>“All right...but how are you going to get me back to the bookshop exsssactly?”</p><p>Fuck. He was hissing again.</p><p> </p><p>“My dear boy, you brought your Bentley. If I want it to drive, I suspect it will. I think I’ve developed a rapport--”</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale cut himself off when Thea deposited the bill in front of him. He looked up at her, confused.</p><p> </p><p>“Your friend said you’d settle up. Is now a good time?”  she asked.</p><p> </p><p>As Crowley predicted, Aziraphale immediately became flustered. “Oh, you didn’t.”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley answered with a grin. Thea had excellent timing. Really a very good accomplice.</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t understand. Is something wrong?”  Thea frowned, suddenly seeming to ooze anxiety.</p><p>“Oh, why do things like this always happen on my first day?” She hid a wink to Crowley as she ran her hands through her hair.</p><p> </p><p>“It's alright, my dear. Don’t fret. Everything is perfectly fine.” Aziraphale practically tripped over himself to console the server and released Crowley’s hand to reach for his wallet. Crowley immediately slid off his seat, and grabbed the journal and his jacket off the back of the chair. He was out the door in a moment, and dared to look back through the window.  Thea was happily chatting with Aziraphale as he pulled some notes out of his wallet. When Aziraphale shot him a cross look, Crowley let his glasses slide halfway down his nose in a wicked leer and stuck his long forked tongue out at the angel.</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale’s eyes went wide and he blushed.</p><p> </p><p>A moment later, the Bentley was peeling away.</p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p> </p><p>The angel’s next attempt came the following day. Crowley had just stepped out of a shop with a couple bottles of plant food and hissed against a particularly strong gust of cold wind. He flipped the collar up on his black leather coat, thrusting the small bag into his pocket when he was suddenly engulfed around the middle by two strong arms. Two strong arms wrapped in tan wool.</p><p> </p><p>“Ngk” Crowley froze. He heard the warm chuckle behind him and felt that rush in his blood again.  “Er, wot’s the plan here, Angel?”</p><p> </p><p>“The plan, you wicked serpent, is to win your silly game.”</p><p> </p><p>“Right. Um…” Crowley looked back down at the arms holding him and suddenly felt rather immune to the cold. This was a thing. A confusing warm tingly thing.  “This seems a tad…, I don’t know-- artless?”  Really. He was one to talk.</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale laughed again and started to heft Crowley backwards. The heels of his boots left drag marks in the snow. Crowley gaped at how fucking strong Aziraphale was. There went his blasted heartbeat again.</p><p> </p><p>“True. True,” the angel snickered. “I’m winging it. I saw you come out of the shop and figured, carpe diem !”</p><p> </p><p>“Carpe <em>demon</em>, more like,” Crowley joked, deciding he was enjoying this very much. Aziraphale’s warm arms around him, the slight puff of breath against his ear -- Crowley’s brain filed this information away because nice as it was, he’d have to put a stop to it.</p><p> </p><p>An older couple quickly sidestepped the pair, tossing a filthy look at the two apparently-middle-aged-apparently-men who were roughhousing on the pavement like children. This gave Crowley an idea. Aziraphale offered a polite apology but did not release his prize. Crowley tilted his head back against the angel’s chest to peer up at him, and sure enough Aziraphale’s cheeks were <em> burning </em>.</p><p> </p><p>“Lots of people out today,” Crowley observed innocently a second before he let himself become a dead weight in Aziraphale’s arms. The angel staggered forward, suddenly off balance, puffing his cheeks with effort to keep Crowley somewhat upright. The shit-eating smirk never left the demon’s face even as his rump slid onto the pavement. Aziraphale tried to alter his grip under Crowley’s arms and clucked his tongue in annoyance when Crowley let his head loll back, grinning up at him. Several people were tossing them looks now.</p><p> </p><p>“Crowley,” he grunted. “You are making a scene.”</p><p> </p><p>“<em>Am I </em> ?” Crowley responded far too loudly, still grinning like a madman. <em> Hells below! </em> Pestering the angel was his favourite thing. Aziraphale grumbled something unintelligible and made one last attempt to move Crowley without drawing too much more attention before finally giving up.</p><p> </p><p>“Fine!” He snapped, depositing Crowley fully on the pavement.</p><p> </p><p>“Aw, don’t give up, Angel.”</p><p> </p><p>“I cannot believe you.”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley affected an exaggerated pout as a snowflake landed on his glasses.</p><p> </p><p>“Carpe demon?” he asked, offering a long-fingered hand.</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale swatted it away, turned on his heels and stalked off.</p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p> </p><p>The little bell above the bookshop door had the good sense to keep quiet when Aziraphale came stomping through in a rage. He was in no mood for any pleasant jingling right now. He dematerialized his winter kit with an angry snap and grumbled his way into the little kitchenette to put the kettle on. Perhaps some soothing tea was in order.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Crowley is impossible. What an absolutely ridiculous impossible creature! No shame! This afternoon has been utterly humiliating! </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Azirphale gave up on the tea, storming over to a cupboard and fetching a tin of shortbreads, before dropping onto a kitchen chair and biting a biscuit in consternation.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Carpe demon indeed. Cheek. It would serve him right if his arse got frostbitten. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>The sweet buttery biscuit melted across his tongue and he simply had to sigh at the pleasure despite his anger. He munched another shortbread with slightly less pique. He hadn’t truly believed his ill-considered abduction attempt would succeed. It had been brash and silly, so it wasn’t <em> really </em>Crowley’s fault that Aziraphale was embarrassed.</p><p> </p><p>And carpe demon <em> was </em>a little funny.</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale plucked a third biscuit from the tin and rose to begin the tea once more. The angel was disquieted by the intensity of his resentment now that it was fading. He leaned against the counter as he waited on the kettle, thinking and rubbing his arms.  </p><p> </p><p>Oh.</p><p> </p><p>His arms. His arms had been wrapped around Crowley!  They’d known each other for over 6,000 years and Aziraphale had always been careful about touching the demon but in the last week he had quite intentionally grasped and held Crowley and it was only just now that he realized that was, in fact, going to be required for him to win this little game.</p><p> </p><p>Crowley had felt thin but solid in his arms. The new vantage point had given him a fresh angle to admire Crowley’s grin. He could see under the dark glasses, how long the demon's eyelashes were, how bright the eyes; he could feel the unexpected softness of Crowley’s red hair against his chin.  </p><p> </p><p>“Oh dear,” Aziraphale whined into the empty kitchenette. He gave up on the kettle and miracled himself a cup of tea before retreating into the backroom of the shop.  </p><p> </p><p>“Oh dear,” he said again, sinking into the couch and pulling a blanket over himself as if trying to hide from the realization.</p><p> </p><p>It was no good. Holding Crowley had felt wonderful and exciting and good and right. He had been so furious because Crowley had ruined it for the sake of this game.</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale tried to feel embarrassed at this realization but it felt too much like pretense. He had known that he cared for Crowley for a very long time despite never daring to admit so out loud. Aziraphale had pushed Crowley away. He had accused him and insulted him and called him a fiend. And well, he <em> was </em> a fiend, surely, but he was also so much more.</p><p> </p><p>He was <em> Crowley.  </em></p><p> </p><p>‘We’re not friends. I don’t even like you,” Aziraphale whispered, remembering words he had spoken before everything changed. Embarrassment bloomed in his throat. What an absolute git he had been.</p><p> </p><p>“You do,” he recited, closing his eyes as if in prayer.</p><p> </p><p>Very well. If this game made things more interesting for Crowley, then Aziraphale would be a very good sport about it from this point on. </p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale doubled his efforts to capture Crowley over the following days, but it seemed Crowley had noticed his newfound dedication and had doubled his efforts to <em> not </em> be captured accordingly.  There had been an encounter in St. James’ park where Aziraphale had missed by a mile. Another day Aziraphale had been positive he had cornered Crowley in a pub. The demon had slipped into the men’s bathroom. Aziraphale followed him in time to see the tail of a large black snake flop over the edge of the frosted window.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Blast. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“That’s cheating!” Aziraphale shouted out the window, even though he fully knew it wasn’t. Crowley’s serpent form hadn’t been prohibited. He could just imagine Crowley’s smirk at having exploited a loophole.  Aziraphale straightened his waistcoat and smiled as he closed the window again. </p><p> </p><p>Crowley wasn’t the only one who could find loopholes.</p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p> </p><p>The night had brought on wicked cold. Too cold for any actual wickedness to be out, so Crowley returned to his nice warm safe flat to water his plants and to wait for the sun to make the temperature outside more bearable.</p><p> </p><p>When it was well past noon, Crowley slithered into his long leather coat and left his flat, humming to himself the whole way down the lift. He wondered if hiding out at the florist beside the bookshop would be pressing his luck. He could just imagine the outrage on the angel’s face when he finally noticed, but then again, the angel had been upping his game lately, so best not tempt fate. </p><p> </p><p>The London Library then!</p><p> </p><p>Crowley grinned to himself, tossing the Bentley’s keys gently as the lift chimed and opened its doors into the lobby.</p><p> </p><p>Three swaggering steps later and the smile slid from his face like water off the proverbial duck.</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale stood between him and the exit.</p><p> </p><p>“I thought we agreed my flat was off limits, Angel.”</p><p> </p><p>“We absolutely did, Crowley. I’m so glad you saw sense and stayed warm last night. It was dreadfully cold.”</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale smiled an innocent, friendly smile, not moving from his position. </p><p> </p><p>“Riiiiight,” Crowley drawled suspiciously.  He flicked his gaze back toward the lift and cursed silently that it seemed to be back on its way to the top floor. </p><p> </p><p>“I pressed the up button as soon as I saw the lift starting to come down,” Aziraphale explained as if reading Crowley’s mind. “Although I could have made it into the lift with you before the doors shut. The lift, like this lobby, isn’t technically your flat.” </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Balls.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Could have been ssssomebody elsssse,” Crowley hissed, but Aziraphale chuckled and wagged his finger. </p><p> </p><p> “We both know you are the only one who lives in this building, Crowley,” the angel said. “You bought it out in the seventies and never rented the rooms again whenever someone moved out.”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley made one of his indistinct noises.</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale’s smile grew brighter and he took two steps closer. Crowley took two steps back to match distance.</p><p> </p><p>“Will you try to get around me, my dear? Or would you like to forfeit and we can go get lunch?”</p><p> </p><p>“Forfeit?” Crowley snapped, offended. “You’re not bloody winning anything just standing there, Angel. I can easily --”</p><p> </p><p>His bluster died in his throat when Aziraphale suddenly unfurled his wings. Crowley had barely time to blink in surprise before the angel surged forward and he was forced back against the wall by a strong hand against his chest.</p><p> </p><p>“Ngk!”</p><p> </p><p>He was surrounded by feathers. They brushed against him lightly as he gaped at the angel in utter shock. Aziraphale leaned in closer, whispering conspiratorially. “While you were keeping warm, I was reading up on how to keep hold of snakes, so if you try to slither away, I’m quite confident I can snatch you up and put you in a sack. I brought one with me just in case.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh damn,” Crowley squeaked. He’d actually forgotten about the snake option. He was having a difficult job thinking at the moment. His brain kept stuttering on soft <em> soft </em> feathers near his face and blue <em> blue </em> eyes and the way he could taste the scent of tea and honey in the air. </p><p>His heart was hammering in his chest and those endorphins were making him feel drunk. His hands were clammy and his jeans felt too tight and those feathers really were fucking <em> soft </em>.</p><p>“Um...er...uh the...the bookshop,” Crowley started. Aziraphale quieted him with a finger against his lips and Crowley nearly fainted.</p><p> </p><p>“I thought we’d fly,” Aziraphale said as if suggesting a spot of tea. His gleaming wings flapped once slowly to articulate the point. The hand against his lips dropped to his shoulder and Crowley felt the angel’s other hand touch his hip for an instant. Just long enough to stop Crowley’s heart as he lifted the demon into his arms.</p><p> </p><p>“Whaaaa?” Crowley squealed, too blitzed by shock and sensation to mount an escape. Was it possible to die from a sudden onset of angel-oriented lust?</p><p> </p><p>“You see, angelic glamours aren’t technically a miracle so I should be able to get you back to the shop tickety boo--”</p><p> </p><p><em> Oh Hell no. Nope. No. Nah. No way. </em>  Crowley had nearly swooned just being pinned by the angel. His eyes had nearly left his skull when Aziraphale scooped him up so easily. If the angel actually took off with him, if he had nothing between him and the splat on the pavement except these remarkably strong arms and those gloriously soft wings he'd...he’d…</p><p> </p><p>“Ah...Angel,” the words came out in a pant. His tongue felt too big for his mouth, but not in the usual way.</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale stilled at his tone, cheeks slightly pink, and Crowley realized he’d whimpered a little.</p><p> </p><p>“Are you alright, my dear?” he asked, concern etched across his sky blue eyes. Concern, and something else.</p><p> </p><p>“You forgot...I…” Crowley shook his head to clear the fog. This was bloody ridiculous.</p><p>“You forgot, Angel. I get one of these,” he raised his hand, saw Aziraphale’s eyes widen, and snapped his fingers.</p><p> </p><p>He was standing back in his flat. Alone except for the shivering greenery.</p><p> </p><p>His lone miracle used up but it was for the best. Things were getting a little weird down there. He should come up with a new plan. He should call Aziraphale to explain. <em>No</em>! <em>Not</em> <em>that</em>! </p><p>He should take a cold shower.</p><p> </p><p>He ran a shaky hand through his hair and willed his feet to move.</p><p> </p><p>“Fuck!” He screamed into the void. The plants quailed, and his feet got the message and propelled his body forward. He made it all the way to the bed before his knees gave out and he collapsed face down on the blankets still in his coat.</p><p> </p><p>Crowley did what he always did when everything was just a bit too much.</p><p> </p><p>Crowley took a nap.</p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p> </p><p>“You forgot, Angel. I get one of these.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Snap. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Oh!”</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale slowly dropped his empty arms back to his side. His wings vanished back into the ether with a little roll of the shoulder. </p><p>He had been so wrapped up in his plan, so enthralled by how well it was going and how wonderful it felt to be wrapped around a flustered Crowley. He'd forgotten about the miracle. </p><p>Aziraphale's sigh echoed in the empty lobby. He felt suddenly lonely and tired. He needed a new plan.</p><p> </p><p>Two hours later he was on the bus to Tadfield.</p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p> </p><p>"Zzznerk?"</p><p> </p><p>Crowley lifted his face off the bed, blinking bleary eyes and wiping drool from the side of his mouth.  He lay motionless for a while, slowly regaining his senses. With consciousness came memories, though, and he felt the blood rush to his face again as his brain helpfully reminded him of Aziraphale's eyes, arms, feathers, voice, smile.</p><p> </p><p>"Fucking bloody damn fuck," he groaned, snatching a stylish, slate-grey pillow and burying his head under it. He tried to just go back to sleep. Maybe he just needed a longer nap. A year or two should do the trick. </p><p> </p><p>An hour ticked by and Crowley was no closer to sleep. His mind just kept running in circles, always coming back to the angel.  This was bound to complicate things in a fussy, hand-wringing kind of way. He should call off the game before things went completely out of control. </p><p> </p><p>He floundered around gracelessly on the bed, trying to fish his phone out of his back pocket. A look at the screen showed he’d slept three days and had five missed calls from Aziraphale, but thankfully zero voicemails. He clicked over to the bookshop’s number but hesitated, his thumb hovering over the call button. What would he say exactly? This whole thing was his idea.</p><p> </p><p>“Hello there, Angel. Sorry for vanishing on you but it seems I keep getting erections whenever you get too close and it is bloody inconvenient so best call this whole thing off, eh?” he chirped bitterly to himself.</p><p> </p><p>He turned the phone off and tossed it to the side, sliding his hands down his face in defeat. How could this happen? How could he have let this happen? A demon lusting after an angel. <em> How long? </em> How long had he been keeping this secret from himself? <em> Couldn’t have been too long </em>, he reasoned. Surely he would have figured it out within no more than a century or two. And it had been such a busy century, what with music and counterculture and fast fashion and social media and all the other brilliant, tricky convoluted opportunities blowing up all over the place. An excellent time to be a demon, really. He’d been very busy. Clearly he had just been so distracted, he hadn’t noticed.</p><p> </p><p>Or — did he just really like being chased and pushed against walls? Was kink demonic? It was definitely <em> kinky </em>, and lustful, and that seemed definitely more his speed than Aziraphale’s. Which was the problem. Although the angel had surprised him on occasion so maybe? No, probably not.</p><p> </p><p>His lips pulled back in a sneer of derision at how utterly stupid this whole situation was becoming. He was the serpent, for Hell’s sake. He was <em> Fallen </em>. He wasn’t meant to be with an angel. He certainly wasn’t meant to be developing spontaneous erections every time he was touched by one of them, or wondering how those strong arms could hold him up (or down!), or under which other circumstances he might get one of those soft, manicured, unyielding hands around his wrist again. </p><p> </p><p>He squirmed a bit, his jeans a bit distracting. Shit. He was doing it again. </p><p> </p><p>The thing was, the truth of it — maybe he just hadn’t ever been touched by someone who didn’t outright hate him. Aziraphale was a being of divine grace, and decidedly was not supposed to be <em> fraternizing </em> with demons, but he knew the angel didn’t <em> hate </em>him. The angel probably didn’t hate anybody. They were friendly, even, and maybe Crowley was just so desperate for any scraps of affection he could scrounge out of the dust that his demonically-influenced corporation instantly rewired that into lust.</p><p> </p><p>Base, vile, dangerous lust. </p><p> </p><p>Ever since the Beginning, well before any of this new personal crisis, Crowley’s continued involvement with Aziraphale had put the angel at risk. He’d understood that, had even gotten a bit of a thrill at seeing how much risk Aziraphale would take on to be around him. He’d also had a clear line, though: how many times had the angel stubbornly resisted the most reasonable of Crowley’s plans, simply because Crowley had suggested it and it therefore must be wrong, a temptation. <em> Evil. </em>Aziraphale had said it, time and time again: they had always been on opposite sides. Even as Crowley had stood under a bloody gazebo and handed the angel his loyalty, had admitted that Aziraphale was all that mattered to him now, the angel had rejected him. And Crowley had turned away. </p><p> </p><p>And yet.</p><p> </p><p>The two of them had saved the world. Together.</p><p>They had rebelled against Heaven and Hell. Together.</p><p>Crowley had faced archangels in their domain for Aziraphale.</p><p>The angel had descended into Hell itself for Crowley.</p><p>And they <em>really </em>only had <em>their</em> side now. Maybe a bit more than just “friendly,” then. Maybe even friends? Which made it all the more important to keep his friend safe, protected from his desire. </p><p> </p><p>The thing of it all was that Crowley was beginning to understand that it wasn’t lust that was making him a mess around Aziraphale. Well. Not <em> only </em>lust. </p><p>But for Somebody’s sake, he had it bad for the angel. Wanted to protect him. Wanted his attention. Wanted to make him smile, to make sure no one ever came after him again. Wanted, full-stop, greedy and terrible. </p><p> </p><p>An orchid rustled, then<em> . </em>“Shut up,” Crowley drawled at it. Fussy, awful, pretty thing. “Don’t know why I bother with you.” It rustled again. He definitely did know. </p><p> </p><p>Crowley grabbed a pillow and threw it across the room all at once, where it collided with the orchid that would <em> keep all its fucking petals intact if it knew what was fucking good for it </em> . Then he sat up, digging his fingers into the sheets as if that contact could hold him still against the onslaught of this new turmoil. He felt trapped. He wanted to run. He wanted a weapon. He wanted insurance in case things went pear- shaped. ( <em> He likes pears </em>, his memory helpfully supplied. Might bring some by the shop later.)</p><p> </p><p>He knew he didn’t have any of these things. He thought he <em> might </em>have been overreacting, but couldn’t say for sure, and since when had his middle name been ‘moderation,’ anyway? If he was going to catch feelings for an angel, then he was going all-in on it. </p><p> </p><p>And that meant making sure he kept at least half of those feelings (specifically, the ones that settled around his hips) as secret as a locked safe full of holy water, no matter how much fun the game was. </p><p> </p><p> “Fuckin’ sssaccharine…” the demon muttered, heaving himself off the bed. He needed a drink. And that cold shower.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>*****</p><p> </p><p>Crowley pressed into the bookshop, closing the door quickly and shaking off the wet snow. The weather was particularly vicious today, of all the bloody luck. At least it meant the bookshop was free of pesky customers.</p><p> </p><p>“Oi! Angel!” he called out. “You here?”</p><p> </p><p>“Is that you, Crowley?” he heard from the back. A moment later Aziraphale poked his head out from around a corner. “I’m in the back room, my dear. I’ve a few new acquisitions to look through. Do come in.”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley cleaned the slush off his boots with a snap and started for the back room.</p><p> </p><p>“Listen, Angel, about the gaAHHH!” Crowley’s foot sank through air as the rugged floor vanished. He hit a muddy wall and quickly slid four metres down to rest on his upper back in a shallow puddle of icy water. </p><p> </p><p>“AhhHAa!” he shrieked as the cold water soaked to his spine and crept under the waistband of his trousers.</p><p> </p><p>“Crowley?” </p><p> </p><p> He looked up and saw the angel peering down at him. “Are you all right?</p><p> </p><p>“Am I all right? What the fucking fuck happened to your floor?”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh this? This is a pit trap. Adam’s idea. It seems the Them have been reading about — ”</p><p> </p><p>“You dug a fucking pit trap into your bookshop?!”</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t be ridiculous, Crowley. I miracled it. We each get one, remember?”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley squirmed himself around until he could pull his long legs under him. He tried the slanted wall but his hand slid and came away muddy. Ridiculous.</p><p> </p><p>“Where are my glasses?”</p><p> </p><p>“Down there with you, I should think.”</p><p> </p><p>“Fucking perfect.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh don’t fuss. We’ll put you to rights before you take me out for supper.”</p><p> </p><p>“Cocky bastard.”</p><p> </p><p>“With good reason, Crowley. You have used your only miracle and I doubt you can climb out of there, although it might be fun to watch you try.”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley glared up at him, but suspected this terrifying expression was somewhat ruined by all the mud dripping down the side of his face.</p><p> </p><p>“Would you like help up, my dear?”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley pretended to mull that over. He was supposed to be ending this game before he did something irreversibly embarrassing.   At the same time...the angel was being terribly smug right now. Over-confident, like. Maybe once he was free of the pit he could make a break for it. </p><p> </p><p>“Well, yeah, um. Yeah. Thanks.”</p><p> </p><p>“Of course, darling,” Aziraphale answered, just a touch too sweetly. A moment later a net was tossed over Crowley’s head.</p><p> </p><p>“Fuck.”</p><p> </p><p>To his credit, Crowley really did try to lift the net away from him, but by the time Aziraphale pulled him out of the trap he was well and truly snared. The angel dragged him clear and set him gently on his side before snapping his fingers and returning the bookstore to its non death trap state. Crowley glared at him sullenly, even though he was happier than he’d care to admit. The repeat demonstrations of celestial strength were definitely doing it for him. </p><p> </p><p>“So,” Aziraphale murmured, turning back to him, entering his space. “You are in the bookshop.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yep.”</p><p> </p><p>“And you are caught.” </p><p> </p><p>“Seems like,” Crowley muttered.</p><p> </p><p>“Seems like? Do you want to spring forth and escape?”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley was a little worried <em> something </em> wanted to spring forth and escape. Once again, his trousers were entirely too tight, icy puddle water notwithstanding.</p><p> </p><p>“Um, nope?” He swallowed and sternly advised his corporation not to blush.</p><p> </p><p>“Excellent!” Aziraphale grinned, crouching down beside him. “But I’m afraid I’m going to need to hear you say that I’ve won your game before I free you.”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley smirked and snapped his fingers. Instantly he was up to standing, perfectly clean and dry and free. Aziraphale looked up at him, still in a crouch and smiled and <em> holyshit </em> that was fucking hot. </p><p> </p><p>“That was a miracle, dear,” the angel said, finally rising and tugging down his waistcoat.</p><p> </p><p>“Ugh. Yeah, all right. You bloody win,” Crowley grumbled.</p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p> </p><p>The weather had turned mild when Crowley came to pick Aziraphale up for supper the following day. The angel talked about polite pleasantries on the way to Salt &amp; Smoke Bistro but Crowley could feel the smug satisfaction radiating off his companion; it was simultaneously an irritant and a balm. It was Aziraphale being Aziraphale. It let Crowley believe that his attraction hadn't been noticed. Still time to salvage some dignity and figure a way to get his body back under control.</p><p> </p><p>They were shown to their table upon their arrival and Crowley was glad he had made a reservation. The nicer weather had filled the modest restaurant and he and the angel were surrounded in a crowd of chatting humans. It felt... safer to be in a crowd right now. More chatter, less intimacy, more opportunities to pin any of his missteps off on unsuspecting strangers, somehow. </p><p> </p><p>Crowley saw Thea taking an order at another table and made a mental note to sing her praises to the manager whenever he had the chance. Aziraphale unfolded the menu.</p><p> </p><p>“What do you recommend?” the angel asked, as if he didn’t already know exactly what he was going to order.</p><p> </p><p>“The house red is surprisingly drinkable,” Crowley responded, chin resting in his palm, and smiling contentedly . </p><p> </p><p>Crowley ordered a bottle of burgundy. Aziraphale ordered a plate of olives to start, the <em> thon à la Niçoise </em>, and a lemon curd cheesecake.</p><p> </p><p>All in all, the meal went splendidly. Crowley sipped his wine, and Aziraphale made love to the food with his mouth as usual. Crowley gave himself a mental pat on the back for managing to keep from squirming too much in his seat.</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale was mid-moan over a bite of lemon curd when a shout of alarm sounded from behind them. Crowley turned in his seat in time to see a middle-aged gentleman in a grey suit fall off his chair, sweating profusely.  His female companion bolted from her seat to tend to him, yelling for an ambulance.</p><p> </p><p>Crowley instantly snapped back in his seat, lashing out with his hand in time to grab Aziraphale by the wrist. The angel had gotten to his feet, but looked down in alarm and confusion when Crowley stopped him.</p><p> </p><p>“You can’t,” Crowley said, tightening his grip.</p><p> </p><p>Another diner had his mobile out and was already speaking to a dispatcher. Thea and another server were tending to the man. Crowley did not let go of the angel.</p><p> </p><p>“The gentleman is having a cardiac emergency, Crowley.”</p><p> </p><p>“I see that but you <em> can’t </em> , Angel. That sort of thing, <em> They  </em>will notice.”</p><p> </p><p>“I can’t just do nothing. He could die!”</p><p> </p><p>“Please”, Crowley begged. He wasn’t exactly sure what he was begging for. Please don’t provoke Heaven. Please don’t get yourself killed. Please<em> don’t leave me alone. </em></p><p> </p><p>A tingle of divine power made Crowley’s skin crawl and his heart clenched. <em>He</em> <em>did</em> <em>it</em> <em>anyway</em>. However, when he looked up the angel was simply watching the scene. He hadn’t seemed to have done anything. Crowley followed his gaze to where Thea was gently holding the ailing gentleman’s hand, speaking soothingly to him. Colour was returning to the man’s face, and he seemed to be coming around.</p><p> </p><p>Crowley shot Aziraphale a look, but the angel just sank back to his seat looking alarmed and slightly ill.</p><p> </p><p>“Did you — ?”</p><p> </p><p>“I didn’t,” Aziraphale replied faintly.</p><p> </p><p>“But I felt— ”</p><p> </p><p>“The girl performed a miracle,” the angel agreed, looking troubled.</p><p> </p><p>A spoon seemingly materialized out of nothingness above them and hit Crowley in the shoulder.</p><p> </p><p>Right. Serves him right for saying he was bored.</p><p> </p><p>
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<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Break The Fall</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>There are barrels of questions surrounding Thea. Is she a threat? Does she need help? Who or what is she?<br/>Certainly she provides an excellent distraction from working through their own shit. </p><p>Crowley and Aziraphale try to find answers when Thea suddenly becomes ill. What they find is more monstrous than either demon or angel can imagine.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you once again to my lovely beta readers, PinkPeguinParade and Raechem.</p><p>I had to take this down once and repost it because I didn’t know how to add it as a chapter the first time &gt;.&lt;</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>
  <em> You break the fall </em>
</p><p>
  <em> It's not easy to trust </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I wanna love you </em>
</p><p>
  <em> But I'm just too cynical </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> <span class="u"> Break the Fall </span> - Laura Welsh </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Neither of them spoke much on the way back to the shop. Staying at the bistro had felt untenable once the paramedics had shown up. Thea had vanished into the back where they could not easily follow and in the heat of the moment the surprise angelic miracle from a non-angelic source had felt threatening. Crowley had seemed to agree, paying the cheque in a hurry and all but pushing Aziraphale out the door. There was a silent understanding that this matter required the safety of the shop’s backroom and a goodly quantity of alcohol. Aziraphale was self aware enough to understand that he was feeling resentful of this new development. The last eleven years had been terribly stressful and when it was all said and done, and the <em> Armageddon of it all </em> put behind him, didn’t he <em> deserve </em>to have a nice rest? Besides, it wasn’t as though Aziraphale didn’t have other matters with which to occupy his mind.</p><p> </p><p>There was Adam, seemingly a nice normal child, (if a bit precocious), but what if his Adversarial powers were ever to return? Shouldn’t he and Crowley come up with a contingency of some sort, just in case?</p><p> </p><p>And speaking (or thinking rather) of Crowley, was it Aziraphale’s imagination or was the demon being colder than usual? Was he upset that Aziraphale had won the game? That seemed petty, even for a demon. Was something else bothering Crowley? Was he still angry with Aziraphale for refusing to run off with him? Oh how sweet and foolish and utterly barmy that idea had been! Still, he had seemed to have meant it. When he projected to Crowley from Heaven, the demon had been blitzed beyond reason, wallowing in a pub. He seemed completely... lost. </p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale fiddled with the hem of his waistcoat and bit his lip, watching Crowley ooze deeper into the cushions as the Pauillac began to take hold. How was he ever going to make it up to the dear boy? 6,000 years of being “hereditary enemies” when, in truth, Aziraphale had felt anything but. </p><p> </p><p>However, now there was this new revelation. Some silly girl performing miracles right in front of them with no regard for the need to keep such things secret, and to let tired, guilt-stricken angels enjoy their cheesecake in peace thank you very much! But it was no good sulking over moot points. It had happened and they should probably discuss it. “Is that the spoon?”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley had been fiddling with the piece of flatware for an hour. He nodded and passed it over when Aziraphale held his hand out for it. An inspection, both physical and metaphysical, revealed the item to be a perfectly ordinary spoon, good for stirring tea and not much else. Aziraphale set it down on the table between them and took a lengthy sip from his glass. “I’m assuming you’d have recognized a fellow demon, even if it were a possession?” Crowley nodded again, frowning.</p><p> </p><p>“Leaves a certain stink,” he agreed. “Not a whiff of it from her though. Besides, the healing bit is more in line with your lot than mine.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m quite sure she isn’t an angel.” He would have recognized her, surely. He hadn’t been away from Heaven <em> that </em>long.</p><p> </p><p>“S’ Not completely unheard of for humans to have, wot’s the word? Divine gifts?”</p><p> </p><p>“Generally frowned upon. I think that completely fell out of practice several centuries ago.”</p><p> </p><p>“Too great a coincidence that she’d show up here. Now. We agree on that?”</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale did agree. Whoever or whatever the young lady was, her miraculous healing and spoon-manifesting seemed to signify that he and Crowley may not, in fact, be left alone after all. Aziraphale had been concerned that there would be further retaliation for thwarting Armageddon. It had been all he could think about for months.  He hadn’t expected it to look like an amiable young American woman. “We need more information before we can make a proper plan,” Aziraphale said finally.</p><p> </p><p>“First step is to get her surname then,” Crowley said. “Simple matter to gather information after that in this day and age.” Crowley then went on to concoct a rather elaborate plan involving social media searches, hacking DMV records, city records and potentially posing as a private investigator. Aziraphale pinched his nose ruefully as the demon went on (He really didn’t want to go to America.) Crowley honestly liked a good convoluting, at the end of the day. Taking down the cell network, the M25, even the blasted paintball game. Crowley always was full of plans that were needlessly showy and complex and that almost certainly backfired on him. Aziraphale listened with half an ear, swirling his wine as Crowley became increasingly animated until the demon started mentioning a connection to internet ads and the wealth of information they gathered. “Those are your doing?” </p><p> </p><p>The demon nodded. “I’m particularly proud of the ones that load just as you go to click on something else. Stroke of genius, if you ask me.”</p><p> </p><p>“I absolutely despise those!”</p><p> </p><p>“Aw, thanks.”</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale wasn’t sure the young woman’s life in America mattered much when it came to being a pawn in a much larger game and said as much. Crowley seemed to visibly deflate and Aziraphale felt badly for him. “You could certainly look her up anyway,” he offered, weakly.</p><p> </p><p>“Nah, you’re probably right. She’s here now, magic-ing people’s angina away. Probably best to crack on sooner than later. Start at that bistro she works at?”</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale listened intently as Crowley told him how Thea had implied a job had suddenly opened up for her. Perhaps the owner was involved. Well, it wouldn’t be too much of an imposition for Aziraphale if they had to do reconnaissance at a place that served such scrummy desserts. </p><p> </p><p>He welcomed the chance to work with Crowley on another matter of importance as well. It could provide an opportunity for Aziraphale to show Crowley his support and friendship, and hopefully undo some of the injury he’d done in the last six thousand years. A start, anyway. “I think that would be best. Whatever it is that is happening, I have no doubt that we will get to the bottom of it if we work together,” the angel told Crowley, gently placing his hand on the demon’s affectionately. Crowley looked down at the touch, cleared his throat and pulled his hand away. Aziraphale hid his disappointment behind an encouraging smile. <em> I’ll show you, you tetchy old serpent. I’ll be every bit the good friend you deserve. </em> </p><p> </p><p>Funny thing that, a demon <em> deserving </em>the angel’s friendship. Crowley deserved the world, as far as Aziraphale was concerned. Crowley was brave and witty and stylish and handsome and funny — all the wonderful things that Aziraphale was not. Really made one question which was the angel. </p><p> </p><p><em> Well, no. That went much too far. </em> Crowley would be the first to say so. Had so a number of times in fact. Still...He deserved better than Aziraphale had given him. <em> Yes, back on track </em> . He deserved...Oh Goodness, he deserved <em> love </em>. Aziraphale smiled a beaming smile at Crowley who arched a questioning eyebrow in answer. The angel sniffed quietly and turned away, hiding his glistening eyes. Crowley would never accept it, of course, but Aziraphale didn’t need the snake’s permission to love him. And he did. Oh Lord, he did.</p><p> </p><p>******************************************************</p><p> </p><p>The Bentley swerved around another pedestrian, leaving precious little margin for error, and Aziraphale seemed to reflexively grab Crowley’s hand. <em> Seemed </em>reflexive, but Crowley had never seen him do it before and the demon's driving certainly hadn’t changed. Crowley gently withdrew his hand and changed gears as he eyed the kerb, looking for a place to park. Best keep his mind on the American. </p><p> </p><p>Crowley knew he ought to be very concerned about what her appearance adjacent to their lives could mean. He had woken up from many a nightmare after the End that Wasn’t, with strangled screams. His heart seemed to have taken up stakes and permanently moved into this throat for weeks. If this was something to do with Hell, he had to be careful. He had be focused. </p><p> </p><p>It did have some benefits though. He hadn't, for a moment, felt helplessly overrun with desire for his best and only friend, just that old press of curiosity about why something was happening. Lovely question, why. It could go on forever, as long as you didn't direct it too keenly at something with a clear and obvious answer you already knew. For example, he knew Thea wasn't a demon. He knew she wasn’t an angel. </p><p> </p><p>So. Why the angelic vibes, if not from an angel? Why the bloody spoons, of all things? <em> Why did Aziraphale keep touching his hand? </em>Loads of good questions, absolutely barrels of them.</p><p> </p><p>A spot was available outside the Salt &amp; Smoke bistro (of course it was), and Crowley tasted the air as he stepped out onto the pavement, checking for brimstone. All clear. </p><p>The bistro was nearly empty, as it often was this time of day. The owner, Lynn, greeted them when they entered and showed them a table. </p><p> </p><p>“Quite the excitement here last night,” Crowley said when Lynn came back with the menus. </p><p> </p><p>“Oh, were you here last night?” she asked, surprised. When they nodded she carried on hurriedly. “Poor man had quite the scare but he’s all right. I heard he was doing much better by the time the ambulance got him to the hospital.”</p><p> </p><p><em> I bet he was. I bet he’s feeling better than ever now. </em>“Your servers performed admirably,” Crowley replied. “Your new girl, Thea, seemed to have everything well under control.”</p><p> </p><p>Lynn smiled at that. “Thea has been a godsend. One of my best staff members left us quite suddenly to study on the continent. And there Thea was with a sad story, looking for work. I’m not supposed to hire non-citizens but she looked like the honest sort so we worked something out. I’m glad she did so well last night, but she was certainly rattled afterwards. I told her she needn’t come in today but she said she wanted the hours. She must be needing the money, poor dear. I have her scheduled for every afternoon this week…” she trailed off, looking a bit embarrassed, having apparently said more than she wanted to. That hadn’t been Crowley’s doing. He glanced over at Aziraphale who was hiding a guilty look behind the menu. “I’m sorry. I’m going on. Can I get you two something to drink?”</p><p> </p><p>They placed their orders and waited until the woman was unlikely to bother them for a bit to resume their discussion.</p><p> </p><p>“The owner was certainly very helpful,” Aziraphale smiled. “You are very good at speaking to people, Crowley.”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, It's easy once an angel has loosened their tongue, isn’t it?” Crowley responded, bemused. <em> He’s an odd duck today. What’s gotten into him? </em></p><p> </p><p>“Anyway, I don’t sense anything supernatural about the owner, did you?” the angel asked before lifting his teacup to his nose and smelling the steam. Crowley watched, rapt, as the angel’s face lit up in pleasure at the scent before he took his first sip and did it again. If the angel was so enthralled by such simple pleasures how would he react to deeper, more intense ones? He squirmed and cleared his throat again, looking away. He was doing it again. He had to stop doing that.</p><p> </p><p>“I didn’t sense anything from her either. Seems she may have been influenced to take Thea on, but who knows?”</p><p> </p><p>“The girl <em> is </em>quite disarming,” Aziraphale agreed reluctantly.</p><p> </p><p>They killed some more time with small talk. Crowley ordered another latte for himself, and more tea for the angel, biting back a groan when Aziraphale tacked a slice of carrot cake onto the order. Sure enough, the cake led to more squirming. Crowley was going to need to invest in some looser trousers if this kept up. Crowley was about to excuse himself to the loo when he felt a whispering of grief from somewhere nearby. He stilled, trying to home in on it. Aziraphale paused mid-bite, his eyes locked on Crowley with a look of pained empathy. </p><p> </p><p>Demons and angels rarely sensed the same range of human emotions. Demons had evolved, as it were, to be particularly sensitive to sin and vice. Crowley could sense lust, greed, and rage very easily.  The angel was cued into love, if his annoying ramble in Tadfield was any indication. It stood to reason Aziraphale could feel other lofty, virtuous feelings as well. Grief, however, was one of the few emotions that attracted demons and angels both. Angels to comfort. Demons to exploit. The feeling of grief was getting stronger and both entities looked over at the door as it opened and Thea walked in carrying a ratty looking satchel over her shoulder. She waved to the owner with a plastered-on smile that became wider and more real when she passed their table.</p><p> </p><p>“Hiya, Shades,” she greeted him warmly. “Is the game still going on?” Crowley made himself smile and saw Aziraphale give himself a physical shake. The grief was fading now that Thea had a distraction. “Er...No.”</p><p> </p><p>“Who won?”</p><p> </p><p>“I did,” Aziraphale said at once, a bit too smugly.</p><p> </p><p>“Aww, Sorry, buddy,” Thea laughed, patting Crowley’s shoulder.  “I was rooting for you.” </p><p> </p><p>Crowley made an indistinct noise he hoped passed for something appropriate as Thea walked away. His shoulder didn’t feel any different for being patted by whatever she was. His ego didn’t particularly care for it though.</p><p> </p><p>“Did you feel that?” Aziraphale whispered. “I think that definitely puts an end to any infernal connection. I don’t imagine demons are capable of that level of heartache, are they?”</p><p> </p><p><em> This demon is </em> , he thought miserably, the memory coming unbidden. The sound of his own voice screaming “ <em> Bastards </em>”, cracking against the heat of the fire. The smell of burning old books. The constricted ache in his chest. “No,” he said finally, because the angel seemed to be expecting an answer. “Generally a heartless lot, demons.” Aziraphale nodded, apparently deep in thought when suddenly his gaze sharpened as if something had just occurred to him.</p><p> </p><p>“We should ask her to join us.”</p><p> </p><p>“Wot? She’s working.”</p><p> </p><p>“The restaurant is empty. It’s a slow day.” This wasn’t an assumption. It was a statement. As if on cue, the two hipsters near the bar suddenly decided to finish their espressos and leave. </p><p> </p><p>“Why in Hell would we want her to join us?” Crowley hissed.</p><p> </p><p>“Why in Heaven wouldn’t we?” Aziraphale asked with a smile. “You two seemed to be having a bit of banter, <em> Shades </em>, and we might learn more if we could get her to open up to us.”</p><p> </p><p>Nope. Crowley didn’t like that nickname one bit. </p><p> </p><p>After 40 minutes of customers almost coming in and then promptly deciding to dine elsewhere Aziraphale invited Thea over with the offer to buy her a drink. Crowley cringed in assumed embarrassment, fully expecting the young woman to balk at the offer. Thea looked surprised at first. She glanced over at the owner who shrugged and nodded from where she was doing paperwork at another table. Thea smiled then and agreed.</p><p> </p><p>"Thanks," she grinned when she returned with a plate of olives, feta, and fresh bread for the table and a latte for herself. Crowley smiled despite himself. He shouldn’t have doubted how charming Aziraphale could be.</p><p> </p><p>"I love getting to know the locals," she said warmly, blowing steam off her latte. "I hear the best stories this way."</p><p> </p><p>“You can call me Crowley, by the way,” he told her as soon as she seated herself. Best to put this “Shades” business to bed immediately. “And this is Aziraphale.” </p><p> </p><p>"I very much enjoy speaking with new people as well," Aziraphale said brightly. Thea seemed to reflect the angel's warmth right back at him and Crowley felt himself at risk of basking in it all like the reptile he was. It was almost too much. Crowley leaned back in his seat to wave at the owner. "Did you want to join us too?" </p><p> </p><p>"Yes! Lynn come join us!" Thea clapped. Lynn glanced at her ledger before shrugging and joining them. Thea scampered off and returned with a cappuccino for her boss. Aziraphale tossed Crowley a questioning look. The angel obviously hadn't given any thought to how it might look for two men to invite a much younger woman to their table for a drink. They did <em> not </em>need that kind of reputation. Thea seemed almost ridiculously open and naive, but best to acknowledge the reality that women are safer in numbers. </p><p> </p><p>Lynn accepted the cup with a polite smile and eased them into conversation about their thoughts on the menu. Aziraphale had a lot to say on the subject until Crowley gave him a smart kick in the shin under the table. </p><p> </p><p>"How are you enjoying London, Thea?" Crowley asked, drawing attention away from Aziraphale's wince. </p><p> </p><p>"Yes, winter seems an odd time to visit Britain. Are you a student?" Aziraphale added, catching the hint to get on subject. </p><p> </p><p>"No, I just needed a change of scenery," Thea replied. Crowley clocked the evasive answer and the new little wave of grief from the girl. He was about to steer the topic away when Aziraphale launched into a damned interrogation. Crowley sat rigidly, begging the angel with his eyes to tone it down, but the angel pressed on with all the subtlety of a cricket bat to the face. In the space of ten minutes they had learned not only her surname (Sutton), but her favourite dessert, flower, colour, (Chocolate truffles, Asters, Cerulean). Aziraphale gave him a knowing smile and Crowley realized, with a pang of affectionate exasperation, that the angel thought he was being sneaky by asking her about everything except what they wanted to know. Thea answered guilelessly, smiling brightly, and trying to interject her own questions here and there with limited success. Lynn sat back and watched the staccato back and forth between the two with a bemused smile. </p><p> </p><p>“What... do you think of snakes?” Aziraphale asked next. Crowley glared at him from behind his glasses. He wouldn’t be surprised if she called him a weirdo and left right away.</p><p> </p><p>“Completely underrated,” Thea responded as though this were perfectly normal conversation.</p><p> </p><p>“Snakes are underrated?” Aziraphale prompted, beaming a smile brighter than a supernova. </p><p> </p><p>“Absolutely. I used to want one when I was younger. They’re so cute!”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley spluttered into his glass.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh I’m so glad to hear you say so, dear. I think so too.”</p><p> </p><p>That did it. Crowley was putting a stop to this now. “Snakes are <em> not </em>bloody cute!” he growled.</p><p> </p><p>“They are too. With their widdle bleppy tongues and sweet little snoots,” Thea went on in a baby voice that made Crowley’s skin crawl. Aziraphale was grinning widely, resolutely not meeting Crowley’s sullen gaze.</p><p> </p><p>“The <em> sweetest </em>little snoots,” the angel agreed, his eyes sparkling with mirth.</p><p> </p><p>“<em> Not </em> . <em> Cute </em>,” Crowley snapped, drawing their attention finally. Thea, at least, looked chagrined.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m sorry, Crowley. Are you afraid of snakes?”</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale nearly discorporated from laughing so hard. Thea shot the angel an annoyed glare, no doubt thinking Aziraphale was mocking Crowley’s assumed phobia. It was then that Lynn saved them both further embarrassment by telling Thea she was free to go home. No point paying the girl to bum around with the customers, Crowley figured. Thea reluctantly agreed, cleared their dishes and went to fetch her things as Lynn returned to the other table and her paperwork.</p><p> </p><p>“‘<em> Are you afraid of snakes </em>’ she said,” Aziraphale chuckled quietly, dabbing tears of laughter from his eyes. “That was lovely. I needed a good laugh.”</p><p> </p><p>“Borderline hysterical, if you ask me,” Crowley grumbled but Aziraphale merely waved the complaint away with a good-natured smile as he usually did. Crowley tried not to sulk but something was making his skin itch. He wanted to put this dreadful information gathering session behind them and come up with a better plan. Maybe he was better off just dropping Aziraphale off at the shop and figuring this out on his own. The angel was <em> obviously </em>not taking this seriously.</p><p> </p><p>“My dear, are you feeling all right?” Aziraphale asked, once again reaching for Crowley’s hand on the table. Crowley looked up at him and saw the mirth had drained from his blue eyes. Lovely shade of blue. Cerulean? They had been so pretty all scrunched up with laughter. And now they just looked concerned. Still pretty though. Crowley pulled his hand away and stood up abruptly. </p><p> </p><p>“I’ll just pay the cheque then, shall I?” he grumbled, turning away.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh. I can get this one, if you prefer? I was the one who invited Thea to join us,” Aziraphale answered behind him. Crowley could hear the uncertainty in the angel’s voice and it set his teeth on edge.</p><p> </p><p>“‘S’fine,” he snapped, stalking to the counter. Lynn came over and Crowley tried not to bite her while she processed the transaction. Crowley rolled his shoulders and stretched his neck, feeling the weight of Aziraphale’s gaze settle between his shoulder blades. What was going on with the angel? For that matter, what was going on with <em> Crowley </em>? Why was he suddenly so fucking irritated by everything?</p><p> </p><p>Maybe that realization was potent enough to knock him out of the bad mood because it was at that moment that Crowley understood exactly what was bothering him, rasping under his hide like nettles, pulling his nerves taut enough to snap. He could smell it. <em> Brimstone </em>. His irritation flew off in a panic. His knuckles went white where he gripped the counter. He gave the owner another once over as she handed him back his card. It wasn’t her. He lifted his nose slightly and sniffed, lips slightly parted so he could taste the air. His eyes followed the sulfuric scent to the hallway behind the counter that led to the kitchen and staff area. Crowley stuffed the card back in his wallet and returned to Aziraphale, not taking his eyes off the corridor any longer than he had to.</p><p> </p><p>“Come on, Angel. Let’s go,” he mumbled, snapping his fingers a few times to hurry Aziraphale along. The sulphur smell was fading now, but Crowley still felt unsafe here.</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale did get up then, his eyes cold as he retrieved his coat from the back of his chair.</p><p>“I do not care for this,” he imitated Crowley’s impatient snapping. “I am not a dog.”</p><p> </p><p>Thea emerged from the back room with her coat and satchel and stumbled slightly into the counter, drawing their attention. She smiled wanly, and Crowley felt his stomach drop. There was a sheen of perspiration at her temples and a slight green cast to the skin around her eyes. He took a hesitant step toward her but Aziraphale had already brushed past him, gently taking the girl’s elbow and leading her toward a chair.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m fine,” she was saying. “I just get these headaches sometimes lately. They come on suddenly and —” She cut off as she pitched forward again, dropping her satchel, the contents spilling out onto the floor. Aziraphale caught her before she could fall and easily swung her up onto a chair.  While the angel was tending to her, Crowley stooped to collect the items from her satchel and do a quick bit of snooping. For the most part the items were what one would expect from the contents of a young woman’s purse, but there was also a pencil case that indeed felt like it contained pencils, and a light blue journal.<em> Finally a bit of luck. </em>Crowley scooped up the satchel and straightened back up after tucking the journal into his coat. He handed the bag to Thea as Aziraphale offered her a ride home. Crowley tasted the air again, but this time the sulphur scent was nearly gone again. Thea smelled faintly of cinnamon and pine, like she had every time he had seen her, but she did still look ill. She hesitated, considering the offer. She likely wasn’t thrilled at the prospect of getting into a car with two near-strangers. </p><p> </p><p>"You shouldn't walk in this weather", Lynn said from the counter. "They seem like all right blokes.” She continued more pointedly to Aziraphale, "There will be no more cake if anything were to happen to her, understood?"</p><p> </p><p>"A terrible threat indeed!" Aziraphale laughed.</p><p> </p><p>"We'll get her home safely," Crowley promised.</p><p> </p><p>Thea's hazel and grey eyes glanced out the window at the sleet outside and Crowley saw her do the math.</p><p> </p><p>“Maybe that would be a good idea, thanks.”</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale helped her to her feet with a good amount of fussing while Crowley got the door, still watching for anyone coming down the corridor. Nothing happened. The brimstone was gone as suddenly as it had come on. Except that now the vibrant Thea was a shaky shadow of herself and that wasn’t going to be a coincidence now was it?  </p><p> </p><p>And Crowley understood that it was alarming for the girl to have gone from merrily appreciating serpents to struggling to stand, but did Aziraphale really need to fuss over her this much? Crowley watched with barely contained jealousy as the angel gently maneuvered the wilting girl into the back of the Bentley, his strong hands gentle and caring in a way that Thea deserved, but Crowley never would. It was despicable of Crowley to feel that way. There was nothing remotely inappropriate about an angel caring for a sick woman, regardless (or perhaps especially?) if she were under some demonic influence. </p><p> </p><p>No. Aziraphale wasn’t the inappropriate one here. Crowley was beyond absurd. He was a demon, bless it all. He needed to get a hold of himself and stop letting all this love-lust-loss-love-lust-<em> need </em>for a fucking angel get him sidetracked from the yet unknown source of that brimstone. </p><p> </p><p>Crowley felt his teeth grind together as he watched the angel move around the car. ‘<em> Demons aren’t capable of that level of heartache, </em> ’ <em> he said. </em>Obviously the angel couldn’t be arsed to consider for a second who the fuck he was talking to. Crowley felt all the fear, hurt, and frustration of the last 11 years (give or take another 5,989) coalesce into anger. Much more manageable, anger. Yes, a demon could work quite well with anger. And that’s all he was, right?  Crowley yanked the door open, swiped a spoon away from where it had appeared on his seat, and pulled away from the curb before Aziraphale had finished closing his own door.</p><p> </p><p>Crowley drove with no more speed or theatrics than is typical of a London driver, in respect for the mortal passenger in his backseat. She gave him the address, wincing at another pain in her head. Crowley drove another few blocks before he found a side street where he could pull over and park. Aziraphale and Thea both started to ask him what he was up to when he swung around in his seat and snapped his fingers in front of Thea’s face. Instantly the trepidation left her two-tone eyes and she stared passively ahead.</p><p> </p><p>“Really, Crowley. This again?” Aziraphale frowned. </p><p> </p><p>“Right, Thea. Where’d you come from?” Crowley demanded, ignoring the sulking angel beside him.</p><p> </p><p>“Toronto,” Thea answered, placidly.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh!” Aziraphale said, delighted again. “She’s Canadian, Crowley. How charming. Serves us right for assuming—”</p><p> </p><p>“What are you doing in London?” Crowley continued, casting Aziraphale a silencing look.</p><p> </p><p>“Running away,” came the answer.</p><p> </p><p>“From whom, my dear?” Aziraphale asked, concern etched across his face.</p><p> </p><p>“From the accident,” Thea said. </p><p> </p><p>Crowley and Aziraphale both paused as a sudden fresh wave of grief washed over them from the backseat of the Bentley. It was powerful and raw and achingly human. Aziraphale sat back in his seat to look out the front window pressing his hand to his temple as if trying to push the emotion away.</p><p> </p><p>“Release her, Crowley, and let’s get her back to her flat,” the angel suggested, his voice soft. Crowley knew the angel didn’t appreciate this method of questioning, but they were getting somewhere finally! They couldn’t lose their nerve now just because of this vast ocean of anguish flooding from this outwardly happy-go-lucky human.</p><p> </p><p>Crowley tried to come up with another question, but there were simply too many and this all suddenly felt too intimate. Her grief conjured up the image of blackened books, with their pages curling in tongues of fire.</p><p> </p><p>“Crowley, release the girl immediately,” Aziraphale demanded again, and his voice wasn’t soft this time. It sounded angry. The tone tore Crowley from his own suffering, back to the present.</p><p> </p><p>Crowley released his hold on Thea and turned forward in his seat. He was back in traffic by the time Thea regained herself and she looked out the window pensively as they drove the rest of the way in silence.</p><p> </p><p>*****************************************************</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale's fingers tapped restlessly on his lap as Crowley parked outside the low rental apartment building. Between the grief and illness he felt from Thea behind him and the sullen nastiness seeping from Crowley Aziraphale was about ready to scream. He ached to make things all right for the both of them but he had no idea how to go about it. If only Crowley would speak to him, let Aziraphale shoulder some of his burden. Couldn't Crowley see that Aziraphale was on his side? On their side?</p><p> </p><p>Thea opened the door and wobbled getting out of the back seat. Aziraphale unfastened his seatbelt and stepped out of the car to help her.</p><p> </p><p>"Oi," Crowley hissed. Aziraphale turned to him but when Crowley merely scowled at him (like he has all day!) the angel just shook his head and let the door slam shut. He desperately wanted to understand his dear friend, but there was only so much snark Aziraphale could tolerate in a day. Thea was obviously unwell and needed their assistance. She smiled at him in appreciation as he took her arm and helped her toward the building. Poor dear was dreadfully pale and Aziraphale could feel a cold tremble under his hand. Crowley could wait.</p><p> </p><p>Except, apparently, he couldn't, because a moment later the demon trotted up to him. Aziraphale tossed him a cool look and Crowley had the bad manners to sneer back. They helped Thea to the lift and when Aziraphale showed no inclination to abandon his charge (and Thea <em> was </em> his charge now. She was clearly in need and Aziraphale <em> was </em>an angel) Crowley just grumbled along behind. </p><p> </p><p>When Thea opened the door to a tiny spartan apartment Aziraphale strained to feel the presence of any flatmates but it seemed Thea lived here alone. That wouldn't do. </p><p> </p><p>"Is there no one to look after you?" he asked. Best to make certain.</p><p> </p><p>"Hmm?" Thea mumbled. "Oh. No. One bedroom apartment. I'm ok though. I've had these migraines before. I'll sleep it off.” Thea gingerly lowered herself into a couch that didn't seem fit to be a dog bed. There was a dank smell in the air, as though mold and mildew were currently in a war for supremacy inside the walls. Aziraphale tried not to touch anything as he stepped into the flat. This was no way to live. </p><p>"What are you doing?" Crowley hissed when Aziraphale crossed the room to the little kitchen off to the side. Crowley nearly hovered at his heels. Honestly, how could he be so obtuse? Aziraphale started looking for a clean glass for some water, but only found a single set of unwashed dishes in the sink (along with about 15 various spoons).</p><p> </p><p>"She is in no state to be alone right now, Crowley. Look at her.”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley did, his mouth a grim line, his hands balled into fists at his sides. Aziraphale shook his head.</p><p> </p><p>"I do wish you'd tell me what is bothering you," Aziraphale whispered as he opened a cupboard to continue his search.</p><p> </p><p>"Brimstone. Smelled it at the bistro before she came out looking like this," Crowley whispered back. Aziraphale felt a cold shiver travel up his spine.</p><p> </p><p>"Thea smells like Brimstone?" he asked. This seemed like a particularly good time to be certain.</p><p> </p><p>"No. But the hall she came out of did. I think she might have had a run in with one of my old... colleagues."</p><p> </p><p>"Poor pet,” Aziraphale sighed. He decided to give up on his search for a glass and just miracled one into being, watching Crowley from the corner of his eye.</p><p> </p><p>"Are you <em>sure</em> that is all that is bothering you?" Aziraphale asked quietly. "It feels like there is something else<em>.” Please</em> <em>talk</em> <em>to</em> <em>me</em>. <em>Please Please let me help.</em></p><p> </p><p>Crowley turned away. "I'm a demon, right? 'bound to be lying no matter what I say so why bother asking?"</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale recoiled slightly at the barb. Honestly, where had that come from? Couldn’t Crowley stop acting like a prat long enough to see that he was only trying to help? "That was uncalled for. I asked because I <em> care </em>, Crowley, but if you insist on acting like this I don't know why I should.”</p><p> </p><p>"Great," Crowley hissed. "Don't.” </p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale felt as though he'd been slapped. Crowley looked miserable, and for a moment Aziraphale thought he was going to apologize, but the demon made another of his noises and slunk away into the living room to flop into an equally cranky looking folding chair. Aziraphale was about to tell him off but Crowley let his forehead thunk down on the linoleum table. Obviously the demon was having another <em> moment </em>.</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale rolled his eyes heavenward and turned back to the task at hand, feeling exhausted and irritated by his friend's behaviour. He filled the glass with cool water from the faucet before lifting it to his nose and giving the water an experimental sniff. In the time it took to take the glass to Thea the water had been replaced with the finest spring water from Chile. The London tap water was left hanging suspended in an inter-dimensional pocket waiting to splash down on Crowley's thick head later (you'd think that demons would be the petty ones but they couldn't hold a candle to angels).</p><p> </p><p>"Here you are, my dear,” Aziraphale whispered kindly, but the young lady was already fast asleep. The angel frowned, at a loss as to what to do next. Too many needs pulling him in different directions. Oh how he wished Crowley wasn't being such a complete pillock.</p><p> </p><p>"Aziraphale.”</p><p> </p><p>The angel looked up hopefully at the sound of Crowley's voice, and sure enough the demon was sporting a weak smile. “I’ve found something,” he said quietly, holding up what looked like a small journal. Aziraphale wasn’t enamoured of the idea of snooping through Thea’s diary, but he was quite happy for any direction at the moment, and the smile on Crowley’s face was likely the closest he was going to get to an apology for the demon’s prior behaviour.</p><p> </p><p> Aziraphale joined him and, since Crowley occupied the only seat, the angel summoned another (far more comfortable) one. He was about to mount a token protest to looking through the diary, but Crowley already had it open so he decided he needn’t bother. It wasn’t a diary anyway, as it turned out. It was a sketchbook.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh she’s a marvelous artist, Crowley. Look. A sketch of what looks like the Palace of Westminster...Oh! And the Peter Pan statue!” Aziraphale gushed, his prior concerns about respect for privacy forgotten. Crowley, for his part, looked disappointed, which made sense if one were considering this sketchbook for clues...which they ought to be. Aziraphale calmed his excitement over the sketches, although didn’t this just make her colourful manner make all the more sense now that they knew she was an artist? Aziraphale simply adored artists. He kept his </p><p>excitement to himself as best he could as Crowley flipped through more pages of drawings. Trees and skylines and the drip of melting ice off a twig. A teacup at the bistro. A woman’s face, half finished. There were lists too, of materials and hues of paint and places she’d like to visit. </p><p> </p><p>How exciting it must be to be so young and talented and have the world yet unexplored. What would it be like to see the world with her lovely eyes? Aziraphale was once again very pleased that they had saved it. The world, not Thea’s eyes. Although, both really, in a sense.</p><p> </p><p>“Er. Wot do you make of this, Angel?”</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale stopped smiling off into space and focused as Crowley turned the book around to face him. The page was full of scrawl, but this wasn’t any sketch or list that he could make sense of. Crowley took his glasses off and rubbed his eyes before poking the book closer to the angel.</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t like lookin’ at it,” he muttered. “Feels like maybe a something or other?”</p><p> </p><p>“Definitely a <em> something </em>, dear boy,” Aziraphale agreed, lifting the book for a closer look. “This is an angelic script.”</p><p> </p><p>“It's a wot?” Crowley sat up straight. </p><p> </p><p>“What’s <em> more </em>is I don’t see how she could have come by it. There are hints of angelic script in art, certainly, but this appears to be our current script. It is no more than 500 years old.”</p><p> </p><p>“Well? What does it say?” Crowley had inched to the edge of his seat, his golden eyes shining in the dim light of the flat. </p><p> </p><p>“It...Well it doesn’t say <em> anything, </em>Crowley. It is complete nonsense. Just half formed symbols, in complete disarray. Almost as though —”</p><p> </p><p>“As though she were trying to draw them from memory?” Crowley asked. Aziraphale didn’t respond. The implication was far too dangerous. It was possible that the girl was some kind of prophetess. It happened now and then. He’d had tea with the descendant of one just last week.</p><p> </p><p>“Brimstone and angelic script,” Crowley murmured as if to himself. He put his glasses back on and turned to look over his shoulder at the sleeping form on the ratty couch. “What in Hell is this girl playing at?”</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale peered at the muddle of text on the page before him. Perhaps there was more to it? He often thought of himself as a bit of a code-breaker. He'd read a great number of books on the subject and had been a little disappointed at the lack of opportunities to try it out. He should ask Crowley to take a picture of this page with his mobile so Aziraphale could carefully study this later with a nice cup of cocoa. </p><p> </p><p>Then came the soft sound of a cupload of tap water splashing over a demon, followed by a splutter and a cough and Aziraphale quite pointedly did not look up as he stood and retrieved a tea towel from Thea's kitchen. He gave it a cursory sniff and finding it clean enough brought it back out to Crowley. The red head was standing now, swiping at his drenched shoulder in annoyance, his top lip lifted in a snarl aimed at Thea. Thea snored on softly, blissfully unaware that a demon of Hell was blaming her for Aziraphale's little prank. Aziraphale was struck by a strong sense of affection for them both.</p><p> </p><p>"Here you are, dear," Aziraphale said, offering the towel to Crowley an instant before his flat soled shoe slipped on the puddle of water on the floor. Aziraphale lurched forward with an exclamation of surprise and staggered clumsily into Crowley, who steadied him with a tight embrace. Aziraphale felt the damp skin of Crowley's neck on his own temple as gravity dragged him across the demon's chest before his momentum stopped. For an instant all of Aziraphale's weight was supported by the edge of the linoleum table and the slender demon and for the life of him he couldn't seem to get his feet back under him. Aziraphale felt his cheeks burn as Crowley set him on his feet. The demon's dark brows were pitched high on his forehead, and his cheeks were a little pink as well, but on Crowley the flush was lovely. Aziraphale stared at Crowley unabashedly for a moment. This close he could see the slitted pupils through the dark lenses, the slightly pronounced sharpness of the demon's cuspids peeking out behind thin open lips. Aziraphale's heart skipped a little as he took in Crowley's wild beauty. The angel reached up and lifted a wet lock of red hair from the demon's brow and tucked it back in place. He felt himself smile dreamily. </p><p> </p><p>"Er...You all right, Angel?" Crowley asked. His voice sounded a little higher pitch than usual. Aziraphale reluctantly pulled himself from Crowley's arms. What was this he was feeling? What had Madam Tracy said? "<em> Made me go all tingly. </em>"</p><p> </p><p><b>"</b> Ngk," Crowley said, and Aziraphale cringed, realizing he'd said that bit out loud. He was about to try to explain when he saw that Crowley wasn't looking at him anymore. He was staring toward Thea, his face an open snarl of anger (or terror?). His hand (still on Aziraphale's shoulder!) was now a vise. Aziraphale finally felt the danger too late <em> too late </em>and when he turned toward it he let his wings unfurl, drawing on his holy power.</p><p> </p><p>Gabriel, Archangel of Heaven and unrelenting wanker, stood over the sleeping woman. His face, handsome and cold, held an expression that hovered somewhere between disdain and apprehension, although Aziraphale figured he'd imagined the latter. Gabriel seemed to be examining the girl, and didn't bother to look at Aziraphale and Crowley but he was doubtlessly aware of their presence and was just being rude. </p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale stepped forward in front of Crowley, expanding his wings to protect his dear friend in case Gabriel attacked. “What are you doing here, Gabriel?” he asked sharply. (<em> The door was behind them, maybe Crowley could get away.) </em></p><p> </p><p>“Same as you, I expect. Have you figured out what she is yet?”</p><p> </p><p>“Not quite,” Aziraphale answered suspiciously. “There would appear to be both divine and infernal aspects at play.”</p><p> </p><p>Gabriel rolled his eyes. He was always rolling his eyes at Aziraphale. “I know that, Aziraphale. That’s my work.”</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale’s jaw dropped.</p><p> </p><p>“Well, half of it, obviously. Mine and Beelzebub.”</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale’s jaw might as well have hit the floor. He could not have heard that right. His mind was playing tricks on him. “I beg your pardon?” he whispered, trying to ignore the cold creep of shock across his back.</p><p> </p><p>“<em> My </em>pardon?” Gabriel snorted. “That’s rich.”</p><p> </p><p>“What did you do to the poor girl?” Aziraphale snapped. Yes, this was better. The swell of protective anger felt warm in his chest and pushed away the shock. Gabriel being an absolute twat? Hardly shocking in retrospect. Working with the Prince of Hell, that took a bit of mental arithmetic that Aziraphale felt hardly capable of at the present time.</p><p> </p><p>Gabriel rolled his eyes (again!) and Aziraphale felt his wings twitch, every pinion stretched, quivering in outrage.</p><p> </p><p>“A blessing here and there, along with whatever the occult version of that is. A bit of …oh, let's call it ‘celestial tampering’.”</p><p> </p><p>“Why?!” The question practically flung out of him, a living thing of its own. WHY WHY WHY? This was never, ever, done. Not since the deluge and the whole Nephilim fiasco. Gabriel of all creatures should know better. There was never any good to come of...<em> celestial tampering </em>with mortals. This defied all reason.</p><p> </p><p>The wild look in Gabriel’s violet eyes at that moment told Aziraphale plenty about how little <em> reason </em>had to do with any of this.</p><p> </p><p>“It would seem that we’re not supposed to smite you and your pet demon into oblivion, as you so justly deserve,” Gabriel began, turning and gracefully sidestepping Crowley as the demon suddenly emerged from the shadows, wielding the folding chair as a weapon. “Ah, there he is.” Crowley seemed ready to try an attack again but Aziraphale hastily grabbed his sleeve to reel him in before he got himself killed. </p><p> </p><p>“There is, however, nothing in the rules that explicitly forbids complicating the living shit out of your lives. You both seem to love these mortals so much. It seemed fair to mess with them and rub the result in your stupid faces.”</p><p> </p><p>“What you are doing is monstrous,” Aziraphale spat, clutching Crowley tightly to prevent the demon from lunging forward again. “It is positively evil, Gabriel!”</p><p> </p><p>“Technically, what Beelzebub is doing is evil. I <em> can’t </em>do evil. Archangel, remember?” Gabriel looked smug. </p><p> </p><p>“So you lot are just feeding cartloadsss of sssupernatural power into Thea,” Crowley hissed, wrenching his arm free of Aziraphale’s fingers. “And what? The assumption is we’d be impressed?”</p><p> </p><p>“You two really are stupid,” Gabriel sneered. “Humans aren’t meant to handle the kind of power this one has absorbed. It tends to melt them into goo within a few days.”</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale shook his head, still reeling from the horror of it all. “You...You are working with the Prince of Hell to irrevocably harm one of God's mortal children and for what? Spite?”</p><p> </p><p>“Ehn, he’s always been mad as a shit house rat if you ask me,” Crowley muttered.</p><p> </p><p>“No one ever would, Serpent,” Gabriel smirked before turning his attention back to Azirapahle, who was once again trying to pull Crowley behind him. Gabriel glared at Aziraphale with something worse than his usual contempt. It was icy and sharp, and then Gabriel appeared to focus and the arrogant smile returned.   </p><p> </p><p>“The plan, since it no longer matters, was to load her up, light the fuse, and send her your way and watch her —” Gabriel then made a horrible squelching sound and made an accompanying melting gesture with his hands. Aziraphale felt ill. “There was no harm to the natural order because she was supposed to be dead anyway and these things always burn themselves out quickly.” Gabriel frowned then, and looked down at the sleeping girl. Aziraphale and Crowley followed his gaze. She seemed so small and fragile. “But this one isn’t cooperating,” Gabriel grunted. “She’s actually making use of some of the power now and we can’t have her walking around doing that so…” Gabriel sighed tiredly and summoned a gleaming holy sword into his hand. Aziraphale yelped and Crowley surged forward.</p><p> </p><p>“You can’t just bloody kill her!” Crowley hissed, stopping short of slashing distance but brandishing his folding chair again. </p><p> </p><p>Gabriel laughed, his face full of mock innocence. “Of course, you’re right! You probably want to do it. Demons <em> do </em>love a good blood shedding. Please, by all means,” Gabriel stepped away and waved Crowley toward the girl. Crowley glared and held his ground.</p><p> </p><p>“No one is going to fucking kill her,” Crowley said quietly, the very air around him swelling with menace. Aziraphale felt a chill, hearing Crowley use that voice. It was dangerous and thrilling and the angel was all at once grateful again to have this demon in his corner, so to speak. Although he wouldn’t be for long if Gabriel decided ‘to hell with Head Office’ and smote Crowley right now. Best to try to defuse the situation quickly.</p><p> </p><p>“There must be a reason she’s survived your monstrous experiments, Gabriel. It could be...It could be part of The Plan, don’t you think?”</p><p> </p><p>Gabriel and Crowley both groaned in consternation at the mention of the Ineffable Plan. Honestly, it wasn’t like the thing was Aziraphale’s idea, now was it? Still, Gabriel disappeared the sword and dusted off his hands. Crowley put down the chair.</p><p> </p><p>“Fine,” he groused. “You have a month to figure it out. If she isn’t de-powered, contained, or better yet, <em> goo </em> by then, <em> we </em>will destroy her.”</p><p> </p><p>“Why is this our fucking problem?” Crowley demanded, throwing up his hands dramatically. “This whole thing is your damn fault!”</p><p> </p><p>“Fair enough,” Gabriel shrugged and summoned the sword again. Aziraphale hurried between the archangel and Crowley.</p><p> </p><p>“Fine! Fine! Yes. Point taken, Gabriel. Keep it in your bloody sheath. I assume you’ll inform <em> your partner </em>of this ultimatum?”</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll be in touch soon,” Gabriel promised dryly, and then he was gone, vanished in a melodious thrum and the sound of beating wings. A cold dread spilled in to fill the vacuum. Aziraphale shook out his wings, his back aching with stress as he looked at Crowley hopelessly. </p><p> </p><p>“Fuck,” Crowley said simply. He looked pale, frightened. Aziraphale suspected his own face held a similar countenance. </p><p> </p><p>“This is horrible, Crowley. How could they?” Aziraphale asked. It came out as a sob.</p><p> </p><p>“Aziraphale,” Crowley whispered urgently. “Your <em> wings </em>.”</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale gave him an exhausted look but tucked the gleaming white wings back into the ether with an irritated shake. “Oh, don’t fuss about my wings at a time like this Crowley, honestly,” he muttered in annoyance before noticing that Crowley was once again looking behind him. Aziraphale turned again with a forlorn sigh to see Thea watching them from where she lay motionless on the couch. Frightened tears painted a pale line down the side of her ashen face. </p><p> </p><p><em> Fuck </em>, Aziraphale concurred silently.</p><p>
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  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This chapter moved a bit slower, but Chapter 3 is going to be intense!<br/>Revelations. Trauma, Apple tart, Snogging. Probably more spoons.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Hit The Ground (Running)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>All the angelic and demonic cats are out of the celestial bag now and Aziraphale and Crowley are left to bring mortal Thea up to speed, then form a plan to save her life. Doing so will mean convincing Thea to trust them and negotiating with Gabriel and Beelzebub, who are far more interested in tearing the ineffable duo apart. Further complicating matters is Crowley’s penchant for drama and Aziraphale is starting to get more than a little tetchy about the demon’s erratic behaviour. At least there is apple tart.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>As always, a big thank you to my beta readers, pinkpenguinparade and raechem who turn my drabbled nonsense into decent chapters.</p><p>I am keeping the M rating for this chapter, but it does nudge close to the line for E. Things will very likely fully topple over that line in Chapter 4.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
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  <em> Want to live like an animal? </em>
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  <em> By the skin of your teeth? </em>
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  <em> Put your good face on, you're foolin' no one </em>
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  <em> You're a jackrabbit underneath </em>
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  <em> One step forward, step right back </em>
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  <em> Run for the hills, honey, run for the hills, honey </em>
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  <em> Run for the hills, don't look back </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> <span class="u"> Jackrabbit </span> - San Fermin </em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Crowley sat beside Aziraphale on the uncomfortable couch in Thea's flat watching the girl flit around her in her kitchen. </p><p> </p><p>The immediate aftermath of Gabriel's visit was about as weird as Crowley assumed it would <em> have </em>to be. Thea hadn't moved, staring at them in silent tears as if afraid they would attack at any moment. (A reasonable assumption for a human, depending on how much of the conversation she had witnessed). Crowley and Aziraphale had stood frozen as well, likely sporting similar expressions of trepidation, and maybe that was what prompted Thea to (finally) climb off the couch and inch around them. Aziraphale sank into the couch and put his head in his hands. Crowley joined him for lack of any better idea. </p><p> </p><p>Thea brought over three empty coffee mugs and a bottle of whiskey, setting them on the coffee table and sitting cross legged on the floor. Aziraphale seemed to still be cocooned in his own little world of bother. Crowley figured he ought to probably say something.</p><p> </p><p>"So listen —"</p><p> </p><p>"Nope." Thea cut him off, holding up a silencing finger. Crowley's jaw shut with a click. Aziraphale looked up, surprised. Thea started pouring drinks.</p><p> </p><p>"Thea, dear," the angel tried with similar results. "We ought to—"</p><p> </p><p>"No!" Thea insisted, shaking her head. "Nuh uh. Not yet".</p><p> </p><p>She pushed two cups towards them then took the third, drinking it down immediately. Crowley took the offered drink. Aziraphale didn't. It was a decent quality rye. Not Crowley's usual taste but definitely drinkable. </p><p> </p><p>Thea refilled her mug and was about to drain it again when Aziraphale placed his hand over hers to stop her. Thea yelped, startled, and dropped her mug, scrabbling away. </p><p> </p><p>"I'm terribly sorry, dear girl. I shouldn't have done that. It is only that that won't help, you see," Aziraphale comforted gently, motioning to the alcohol while he miracled up the spill. Thea gasped in shock as the amber liquid <em> un </em>pooled from the tabletop into the mug which neatly set itself to rights. Crowley snorted into his mug. There went the 'it was all a dream' option. </p><p> </p><p>"That's not…" Thea's voice shook as violently as the rest of her. "That's not supposed to happen."</p><p> </p><p>"Oh," Aziraphale fretted with a hum.</p><p> </p><p>"Oh," Crowley mimicked into his mug, earning a warning look from the angel that he honestly couldn't be arsed about right now.</p><p> </p><p>"Who are you?" Thea demanded, her voice stronger now. Maybe the whiskey did help. Shows what Aziraphale knew.</p><p> </p><p>"Angel," Crowley recited simply, gesturing toward Aziraphale. "Demon,” he added with a quick tap to his own chest. Aziraphale's warning look instantly turned hopeless.</p><p> </p><p>Thea stared at him suspiciously.</p><p> </p><p>"The important thing to know straight away is that Crowley and I mean you no harm," Aziraphale murmured. "I'm uncertain how much of Gabriel's plan you heard but we will not hurt you. You have my word."</p><p> </p><p>"Oh, <em>your</em> <em>word</em>," Thea laughed bitterly. "And what exactly is that worth?"</p><p> </p><p>"I'm an angel, Thea dear. I don't lie."</p><p> </p><p>"Unless it is to the Almighty about the whereabouts of a flaming sword,”Crowley smirked.</p><p> </p><p>"Not the time, Crowley."</p><p> </p><p>"No." Thea stood and went for the door. "I've brought crazy people into my apartment,"</p><p> </p><p>"You can take off and, believe me, I understand the impulse, but they'll find you," Crowley pointed out quickly, stopping her in her tracks.</p><p> </p><p>"Who will?" She asked, turning back. "Who was that guy? What is going on?"</p><p> </p><p>"We will do our best to explain," Aziraphale promised. "At least as much as we understand it ourselves. Please." Aziraphale stood and held out a hand for her. She didn't move closer, but she wasn't running either.</p><p> </p><p>So they tried to explain. It wasn't easy as neither of them were remotely practiced at educating a mortal about Above and Below. Quite the opposite, actually. Crowley had to work hard to fight the impulse to obfuscate. Thea slowly came over and sat by the table again. She listened quietly until they ran out of words (which took longer for Aziraphale than Crowley by roughly fifteen minutes).</p><p> </p><p>Thea returned to her whiskey with slow, pensive sips and for a while no one said anything.</p><p> </p><p>"So you're an actual real <em> demon </em>," she asked Crowley, looking dubious. "Like from Hell and everything?"</p><p> </p><p>"Yeah, that's me."</p><p> </p><p>"He is the Serpent," Aziraphale added helpfully.</p><p> </p><p>"But, you're so ni— "</p><p> </p><p>"Don't you bloody start!" Crowley snapped. Thea's eyes widened in surprise, and Crowley felt a twang of regret at his temper but Aziraphale stepped in with a warm smile. Why was everybody insisting he was <em> nice </em> ? He had never been <em> nice </em>!</p><p> </p><p>"He <em> is </em> though, isn't he?" Aziraphale jumped in.</p><p> </p><p>"Shut it,” Crowley growled sullenly.</p><p> </p><p>"I always thought so anyway," the angel continued with a conspiratorial wink. </p><p> </p><p>Thea gave a little uncertain smile, and there was something of the old Thea shining in her wide eyes. Crowley wondered if the angel was influencing the girl with some divine comfort but that seemed uncharacteristically reckless given all the prior fuckery done to her. This was just Aziraphale being a warm squishy dumpling of a person. Thea's shoulders slowly relaxed and the expression of curiosity began to overtake the expression of fear on her face. She turned back to Crowley in confusion.</p><p> </p><p>"So wait. He called you ‘the Serpent’. Is that a metaphor or —"</p><p> </p><p>Crowley flashed a grin and slid into serpent form. Thea shrieked and scrabbled back as he slithered off the couch and onto the floor. </p><p> </p><p>“That’s enough, Crowley!” Aziraphale scolded him. “The girl has been through enough today without you terrifying her with...with <em> theatrics </em>!”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley hissed at the angel incredulously. <em> Aziraphale </em> had been the one miracling up spills! Besides, the clock was ticking. They only had a month to get this mess sorted out or Thea was going to meet a terrible end. No time for being gentle. He flicked his tongue out at Aziraphale, who huffed in annoyance. Thea had calmed down so Crowley turned back to her slowly and coiled himself up to look as unthreatening as he could. They stared at each other while the angel made comforting noises at her. Crowley’s sense of smell was keener in this form, however, and he could tell that, while Thea <em> was </em> genuinely nervous, she was also excited and fascinated. Made perfect sense, really. Crowley <em> was </em> pretty fascinating.</p><p> </p><p>Thea scooted closer, reaching out a hand to stroke his scales and no, he wasn’t some pet snake thanks, fuck off. He hissed loudly, showing a flash of long teeth. Thea snatched her hand away.</p><p> </p><p>“Dude!” She snapped. <em> Good, she was getting her spirit back </em> . “I wasn’t going to <em> pet </em>you! Shit!”</p><p> </p><p>“Really, Crowley,” Aziraphale tsked in disappointment. </p><p> </p><p>“I just wanted to...I don’t know...make sure you were <em> real </em>, you fucking weirdo.”</p><p> </p><p>Oh yes. Crowley liked <em> this </em> Thea much better than the whimpering bunny she was earlier. <em> This </em>was the Thea that might actually survive all this.</p><p> </p><p>“Crowley, do behave yourself <em> please </em>,” Aziraphale griped.</p><p> </p><p><em> Fine. Be a good snake. Got it </em> . Crowley slid smoothly a little closer to Thea and lifted his head to look at her. He kept very still and when he didn’t make any more threat displays she lifted her hand toward him again. She hesitated slightly mid-way, but then pressed on, slowly slowly reaching with a finger until it set lightly on his nose. She looked in awe and a pleased smile curled her lips and her eyes shone with actual glee as she whispered “ <em> boop </em>.”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley instantly popped back to his regular shape, kneeling on the ground but hissing in outrage. “You fucking did <em> not </em>just —!”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m sorry!” Thea leaned back and away in alarm, waving her arms in a placating gesture. “I’m sorry! I have really bad impulse control!” She was grinning, a little hysterical. Crowley glared at her for good measure, yanking his tie straight and stomping back to flop back on the couch. </p><p> </p><p>“Well,” Aziraphale uttered, looking a little taken aback by all of this. “I suppose this is progress.”</p><p> </p><p>“Hmph,” said Crowley. </p><p> </p><p>Thea looked away from Crowley to Aziraphale then, and her grin slipped.</p><p> </p><p>“And you’re an...angel?” she asked. There was a slight chill in her voice now.</p><p> </p><p>“That’s right dear. I could...show you my wings, I suppose. If you’d like.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’ve seen them.” </p><p> </p><p>Yep. Definitely chilly. Aziraphale fussed with his hands, obviously not anticipating this reaction. Crowley wasn’t either.</p><p> </p><p>“Not a fan of the heavenly host?” he joked, trying to lighten the mood. It did not work.</p><p> </p><p>“Look, I get that I know fuck all about <em> actual </em> demons, so please take this with <em> all </em>the grains of salt,” Thea told Crowley. “But I feel like at least demons are honest about not giving a damn about people.”</p><p> </p><p>“Now wait a moment, dear. <em> Please </em>—” Aziraphale spluttered.</p><p> </p><p>“That’s fair,” Crowley shrugged.</p><p> </p><p>“No, it's not!” Aziraphale exclaimed, looking wounded. “I <em> assure </em> you, miss, that Heaven — well, angels — Er... <em> I </em> care a great deal.” </p><p> </p><p>Thea looked unconvinced and Aziraphale gave Crowley a pleading look. The demon rolled his eyes.</p><p> </p><p>“S’true. This one cares absolute bucket loads. Wouldn’t have helped me save the world if he didn’t, now would he?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, Thank you,” Aziraphale sighed with relief.</p><p> </p><p>“He’s a rubbish angel, really,” Crowley went on with a grin. Aziraphale’s beaming smile turned dry but he didn’t argue.</p><p> </p><p>“Hmm.” Thea nodded. “I guess that’s all right then.”</p><p> </p><p>“Faint praise, but I’ll take it,” Aziraphale muttered.</p><p> </p><p>“Wait a minute,” Thea exclaimed, remembering something. She once again turned to Crowley, confused. “Is <em> that </em>why you call him “Angel”?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah? Why else?” Crowley ticked an eyebrow. Thea reddened slightly.</p><p> </p><p>“Uh, yeah, right. Obviously that’s why. No other possible reason.”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley felt his cheeks flush. </p><p> </p><p>“Excellent,” Aziraphale interjected, oblivious. “Now then, perhaps <em> you </em> wouldn’t mind answering a couple questions, dear?”</p><p> </p><p>Thea blinked in surprise as if she’d never considered that she mattered in all of this.</p><p> </p><p>“Forgive me for being indelicate, however, Gabriel suggested that you might have had a brush with ...certain death?”</p><p> </p><p>Thea paled for a moment and there was the wave of grief again. Crowley had been expecting it this time and braced for it. He felt the angel tense beside him.</p><p> </p><p>“Um—” Thea stood and collected their mugs, taking them to the sink. “Yeah. There was an accident back home. We were driving to look at a university campus and a tire came off an 18 wheeler up ahead of us somewhere. Came through the windshield. It was—” Thea trailed off for a moment. “It was bad. My girlfriend, Anna. She didn’t make it.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m terribly sorry for your loss, my dear,” Aziraphale sympathized. Crowley chewed his lip, not knowing what to say.</p><p> </p><p>Thea was quiet for a beat, and Crowley was more than a little concerned that there would be tears (because he did not know what to do with that), but then Thea turned back around, leaning against the counter with a look of rebellious indignation.</p><p> </p><p>“Is that why that asshole thinks my life is forfeit? Because I wasn’t supposed to survive the accident?”</p><p> </p><p>“<em> If </em> it was indeed a miracle that you survived,” Aziraphale waffled, “well, then, I suppose it must have been part of a greater plan. On some level, I’m sure you were meant to survive.”</p><p> </p><p>Thea looked unconvinced and Crowley was simply blown away by the sheer amount of absolute horseshit that just came out of his friend’s mouth. It never failed to amaze Crowley how Aziraphale would trip over himself in his haste to make excuses for the misconduct of Heaven. Even. Fucking. Now.</p><p> </p><p>“Gabriel is a tosser,” Crowley told her. “And it doesn’t matter if you survived the wreck because of a miracle or because it wasn’t your time. Your life isn’t forfeit.”</p><p> </p><p>“Quite right,” Aziraphale added with a triumphant smile. “We’ll get this all sorted out.”</p><p> </p><p>"The doctor said it was miraculous," Thea muttered. "They chalked it up to the human body being funny sometimes." When Crowley and Aziraphale just stared at her with incomprehension she elaborated. "They figured I hit my head on the passenger window. I had a pretty serious head injury. That's what caused my heterochromia. I guess it isn't unheard of after a bad injury but they said I healed perfectly almost overnight. The swelling and bleeds just vanished but my eye…" she trailed off uncomfortably, rubbing her right temple.</p><p> </p><p>"No need to be embarrassed, dear. The hazel is quite lovely,” Aziraphale assured her. Crowley ignored another pang of jealousy.</p><p> </p><p>"It’s a contact," she sighed. "It freaked people out too much. I hate wearing them so I only do one eye.”  She lowered her head and pinched the contact out. Crowley was a little disappointed in the result. The way she was going on he had expected it to be a horror. Instead her eye was a somewhat fetching copper red. Humans had <em> no </em>idea what monstrous actually looked like. </p><p> </p><p>“Here, lemme get a closer look,” Crowley hissed, standing up. He snatched off his glasses as he closed their distance and she gasped at what <em> real </em> ugliness looked like as he snatched her chin in his fingers and held her in place firmly. Her eyes were wide, one the colour of storm clouds and the other a ripe pumpkin.  “Look like pretty human eyesss to <em> me </em> ,” he hissed through a smirk, then slapped the contact lens out of her limp hand. “No more of that. You don’t hide eyes like <em> that </em> . You hide eyes like <em> these </em>!”</p><p> </p><p>Maybe that was a little harsh. Contact lenses though. That was a thought.  How far had those come in the last decade? Could he get away with that? No. Probably not. So, if someone was going to get to be dramatic about hiding their eyes, it was going to be him.</p><p> </p><p>Silence stretched across the flat except for the creaking of old pipes and the long beleaguered sigh of an exasperated angel muttering “<em> theatrics </em>”.</p><p> </p><p>“Your eyes,” Thea blurted. </p><p> </p><p>“Fucking right!” Crowley jabbed.</p><p> </p><p>“They're so <em> cool </em> !” Thea squeaked “Are they always like that? That’s why you wear dark glasses? I get it, people would totally freak, but they are <em> so fucking cool! </em> ” Thea proceeded to gush. “What colour even <em> is </em>that? Like yellow and gold and chartreuse all together. And your pupils! Wow, you really are a snek.”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley released her chin like she had burned him, straightened his back and put his glasses back on in hopes of preserving whatever was left of his dignity.</p><p> </p><p>“You are a fucking lunatic, and I won’t miss you when you are goo.” With that Crowley returned to his sulking spot on the couch. Aziraphale, who had been tittering away as the mad girl blabbered her nonsense, now gave him a frosty look, and the mad girl herself was back to biting her lip and looking frightened and <em> yes </em> that was the opposite of what he was trying to accomplish in both cases but <em> Fuuuuuuck! </em></p><p> </p><p>“Please forgive my friend. He is incorrigibly dramatic and has been sulking ever since you said snakes have cute bleppy tongues,” Aziraphale apologized. Crowley harrumphed.</p><p> </p><p>“Well, I regret that now,” Thea said. Crowley surprised himself with a pang of guilt. “It <em> is </em> really more of a <em> mlem </em> ,” Thea continued with a little smirk and <em> poof </em>, the guilt was miraculously gone.  Crowley would have been more put out if there was any feeling behind the teasing. The fear wasn’t gone and Thea’s smile faded again into a thoughtful expression.</p><p> </p><p>Thea shook her head. “Look, if I’m on borrowed time, just give it to me straight. Shit has been so weird since the accident, you have no idea.” </p><p> </p><p><em> Tink </em> . A spoon clattered against the coffee table. Crowley had <em> some </em>idea.</p><p> </p><p>“Learning about you two has honestly been a relief,” she continued, shooting an annoyed glance at the new spoon.  “And I’m not going to just let some jackass kill me because he’s mad at someone else. I don’t care if he is an Archangel or whatever. He’s a bully and I’ve plenty of experience with those.”</p><p> </p><p>“We’ll sort it out,” Aziraphale assured her again. “It might take some time, but I’m certain we can find a way to safely remove the powers from your corporation.” </p><p> </p><p>“No, I’m keeping them,” Thea countered. Crowley barked a laugh and Aziraphale frowned at them both but Thea held her ground. “They gave them to me and that was their mistake. They’re mine now.”</p><p> </p><p>“Thea, dear, I’m not sure that keeping these abilities, whatever they may be, will be an option.”</p><p> </p><p>“It is the <em> only </em> option,” Thea stated. “I have a month, right? There is no time to waste looking for some sort of cure. That road leads to either the cure killing me, or it not working and the asshole killing me, or it <em> does </em>work and I’m defenseless if the asshole decides to kill me anyway.”</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale started to disagree, but fell silent, looking perplexed that a human had considered this before him.  </p><p> </p><p>“I’m not going to just meekly turn into a puddle of ooze,” Thea continued. She pushed off from the counter and started pacing as if she could stave off that possibility if she only kept moving. Crowley recognized the move. </p><p> </p><p>“So, I’m keeping them,” she declared. “And I’m going to learn how to use them.” Thea turned to face them then and did a fairly decent job of looking brave. </p><p> </p><p>“Risky, but she makes a good point,” Crowley drawled. Aziraphale frowned, making that little worried crease between his eyebrows. “Buck up, Aziraphale. You’re a godfather again!”</p><p> </p><p>****************************************************</p><p>
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</p><p>"Her flat is awful," Aziraphale complained. They were in the Bentley again and traveling fast toward Soho. They had left Thea to gather her thoughts (and put her affairs in order) after Aziraphale had pressed his business card into her hand and made her promise to call the following day. "That thing she calls a couch is absolutely criminal. Is that why she's working so much? Just to pay for <em> that </em>? Who is letting that property out? It should be condemned!"</p><p> </p><p>Crowley laughed, but nodded. He never knew what Aziraphale would fixate on.</p><p> </p><p>"We'll need to work with her quite a bit, I should think. It is bound to cut into her hours at the bistro," the angel continued. Crowley hadn't considered that. At this point he had no idea how they were going to remove the powers from Thea, but if they hoped to get it done within a month they were going to need to make the most of the time they had. </p><p> </p><p>“‘Suppose we could have a word with the lessor,” Crowley proposed. “Convince them to take her on out of the goodness of their terribly mortal souls.”</p><p> </p><p>“But then she’d still be in that dreadful place,” Aziraphale shuddered. “I don’t like the thought of her living there, Crowley. There is mold in the walls. It isn’t good for her health. We should find a more suitable place for her.”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s not that bad,” Crowley asserted with a grin. “You’re so fussy. She’s fine.”</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale sniffed and said nothing for a while. Crowley glanced at him.</p><p> </p><p>“Y’all right, Angel?”</p><p> </p><p>“Perfectly. Why wouldn’t I be?” Aziraphale snapped.</p><p> </p><p>“Because Gabriel was there, and he seems to have it out for us, and seems to me you might have some feelings about that, is all. Sorry for asking,” Crowley responded with a low whistle. </p><p> </p><p>“And Beelzebub,” the angel reminded him, more gently. “And they mean to kill that poor girl and have us watch.”</p><p> </p><p>“So, not all right then?” </p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale looked so tired. Crowley took his hand off the gear shift and gave the angel’s hand a squeeze. Aziraphale looked up at him and rewarded him with a little smile.  The angel squeezed his hand in return, and Crowley decided he liked that very much. He brushed his thumb back and forth across Aziraphale’s soft skin a couple times before he realized what he was doing and gingerly pulled his disobedient limb back into the safety of his own space. <em> Keep your eyes forward and act natural… </em> Thankfully the angel seemed deep in thought again and hadn’t seemed to notice his slip up. </p><p> </p><p>“I really do <em> not </em>like where she is staying,” Aziraphale grumbled. He was thinking about the cruddy flat again. “And Waltham Forest is a long distance to travel everyday, what with the cost of transit these days.”</p><p> </p><p>“Angel, what do <em> you </em>know about the cost of transit?” Crowley teased.</p><p> </p><p>"If only we knew of a mostly empty luxury building with several free flats where Thea could stay," the angel wondered innocently. Crowley pressed his lips together in a frown at that and made a noncommittal sound.</p><p> </p><p>“Someplace clean and well maintained, where we could keep an eye on her,” he went on. Crowley rolled his eyes. “Someplace safe and closer to the shop…” Crowley turned a bend with double the force needed as if he could somehow drive away from this conversation. </p><p> </p><p>"Perhaps in Mayfair?" Aziraphale continued a touch more pointedly. Crowley gave up.</p><p> </p><p>"Fine! For fuck’s sake, angel, you’re like a dog with a bloody bone,” he growled. Aziraphale gave him a broad warm grin and Crowley tried not to enjoy the happiness his sacrifice inspired in Aziraphale.</p><p> </p><p>"S’pose...I suppose  I could whip up a space to include an art studio since you liked her pretty drawings so much," Crowley considered out loud. </p><p> </p><p>"Oh Crowley, that would be just wonderful!" Aziraphale gushed, his smile bright and shining. Crowley shrugged, pretending not to bask. He didn't think Aziraphale could shine any brighter. Best to get back to the shop before anyone on the street noticed him driving the literal sun around in a Bentley. </p><p> </p><p>Crowley wished he could summon that kind of positivity right now. It was never exactly his forte, (chronic pessimism was an occupational hazard for the damned), but now he felt especially bleak. Gabriel and Beelzebub both had singled them out for some payback and that was bloody frightening enough but using Thea to do it? She was barely more than a kid! </p><p>What was a fast-living demon and a somewhat fussy angel going to do to save a slip of a girl from the machinations of a pissed off Prince of Hell and a bastard Archangel? This is what comes from bloody caring! He should have fucked off to alpha centauri. He had no idea why he didn't. Except of course he knew. He punched his hand down on the steering wheel in frustration. </p><p> </p><p>The-Reason-He-Didn't-Flee-To-Alpha-Centauri jumped a little in the seat beside him and shot him a concerned look.</p><p> </p><p>“It will be all right, dear,” Aziraphale told him. “We’ll figure something out.”</p><p> </p><p>“Right. ‘Course we will, Angel,” he replied, trying for a confident tone, but only managing something marginally less hopeless.</p><p> </p><p>*****************************************************</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale puttered around in his little kitchen gathering ingredients together and letting the preparation to bake become a sort of moving meditation. Crowley had insisted on coming in with him, since they weren’t sure when Gabriel and Beelzebub were going to grace them with their presence. The thought of Beelzebub setting foot in this shop made Aziraphale feel sick. He wasn’t particularly enamoured of the idea of Gabriel being here again either. He had taken down his wards in preparation for this visit and the act had felt like a betrayal to a space he had cared for for so long.</p><p> </p><p>So he peeled some apples and measured some sugar. He didn’t quite have the energy to make puff pastry from scratch so he miracled that up and let it rest on the counter while he prepared a baking dish.</p><p> </p><p>Crowley had looked fit to drop when they came back and Aziraphale had insisted he put his head down while they waited. They both knew time was precious but neither of them would be likely to come up with a good plan while they were exhausted. Crowley found refreshment in sleep. Aziraphale had always preferred books and baked goods.</p><p> </p><p> He had picked up the most gorgeous looking green apples from the market the other day on a whim. Perhaps not surprising, considering how much a certain serpent had been on his mind as of late. The apples would  make a delectable pie, but inspiration had struck and now Aziraphale artfully arranged perfect round slices along the bottom of the pan to begin an upside down tart. He examined the look before changing his mind and putting a bottom layer of pastry instead. He could never get enough puff pastry. His mouth watered as he started cooking the filling on the little stove, inhaling the scent of sugar and spice and fruit. He hoped Crowley would enjoy it, because make no mistake, he was making this for Crowley. Perhaps it was foolishly romantic after all the demon was often put off by food—  but Aziraphale had always been better with food than he was with words so he plunged ahead.</p><p> </p><p>Once the tart was in the oven, he washed up, then let himself indulge in the guilty pleasure of watching Crowley sleep. Aziraphale had never been very good at sleeping  himself, but the boneless drape of Crowley’s corporation at rest never ceased to ease Aziraphale into relaxation. He leaned against a bookshelf and smiled down at his friend while the scent of pastry and apple began to permeate the shop. It was well past nightfall and the bustling sounds of the business day had long since faded to the patter of cold rain against the thick glass windows. The angel closed his eyes in relish, determined to keep this perfect moment in his mind as a balm against the future. Then he opened his eyes again, his smile wistful now, and went to put the kettle on.</p><p> </p><p>A short time later his little plastic egg timer dinged cheerily, and Aziraphale fetched the tart out of the oven, setting it to cool and clapping his hands delightedly when he saw it was perfectly golden. He heard a snort and a grunt from the other room and knew Crowley had woken from his kip. Perfect timing all around. Aziraphale poured the water into the pot and set it aside to steep while he waved his hand over the tart to rapidly cool some of the heat with a little gesture. With that he took a perfect slice and brought it out to Crowley.</p><p> </p><p>The demon had brought his long legs down so he was sitting mostly upright now, rubbing sleep from his eyes with one hand while the other held his glasses.  He yawned so widely Aziraphale was certain he must have unhinged his jaw, and he giggled at the thought, finding it appropriate and somewhat comical. Crowley eyed him suspiciously and replaced his dark glasses.</p><p> </p><p>“Here you are, dear,” Aziraphale revealed, handing Crowley the plate. “Fresh from the oven. Can I get you some cream with yours?”</p><p> </p><p>“M’all right,” Crowley dismissed with another smaller yawn and set the dessert aside on the table. Aziraphale bit his lip in disappointment.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh,” he fussed with a plastered smile, “It’s only that...well, I made it with apples...for you.”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley looked up, confused. “For me?” </p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale nodded and he felt himself blush. He hadn’t considered that he might have to explain. “You know… For when we first met.”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley frowned. “In the Garden?” Aziraphale beamed happily although his smile slipped a little when Crowley continued to frown. Perhaps he hadn’t explained it right. “When I tempted Eve to eat the apple?” Crowley continued, looking askance at the slice of tart. Aziraphale tittered nervously. Perhaps he had missed the mark here.</p><p> </p><p>“Er… I wasn’t specifically referencing the tempting bit,” he insisted quickly, but Crowley had already drawn himself up, cold and scowling.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh?” He spat. “Just some other apple related incident around the time we met?”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh bother,” Aziraphale huffed. Crowley could be so sensitive at the worst times. “I was trying to do something <em> kind </em>!”</p><p> </p><p>“Of course you were,” Crowley sneered. “You’re an angel! And I’m just a wicked demon who tempted God’s new children —”</p><p> </p><p>“You <em> are </em> a demon,” Aziraphale snapped back. “And you <em> did </em>tempt —”</p><p> </p><p>“Satan’s bollocks, Angel!” Crowley bolted to his feet. “Don’t you think I fucking <em> know </em>that?”</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale felt a sting of cold. He saw the way Crowley angled his body, the pivot of a foot, and knew he was about to storm off. No. Not this time. Aziraphale took Crowley by the wrist and held it fast. Crowley tried to pull his arm back but Aziraphale only tightened his grip, meeting Crowley’s gaze, glare for glare. </p><p> </p><p>“I was trying to be kind,” Aziraphale repeated, his voice soft but angry. Crowley tugged again and Aziraphale squeezed again, tight enough to bruise. <em>No</em>. <em>Not</em> <em>this</em> <em>time</em>.</p><p> </p><p>“I wanted to show you what you mean to me,” Aziraphale rumbled more forcefully, feeling his frustration gather like storm clouds in his gut. “I wanted us to set the past aside and —”</p><p> </p><p>“So you chose fucking <em> apples </em>?” Crowley hissed.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, I chose apples, Crowley,” Aziraphale shouted, voice raised against a gathering storm of righteous anger. “I chose to take that moment from the Beginning and make it <em> ours </em>!”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley stopped struggling then and stared at Aziraphale, open-mouthed, and his stupefied shock struck Aziraphale as being just as insulting as his prior behaviour. Surely Crowley would have known this if he hadn’t been so dedicated to being a grumpy tosser.</p><p> </p><p>“You have been cold and petulant and extremely rude to me, Crowley. You’ve been pushing me away, no matter how hard I try to pull you close. I know I’ve not been the best friend to you in the past and I have been fretting about whether or not to give you more space but I won’t right now. If I cannot <em> tempt </em> you into not abandoning our side then I am more than willing to try some <em> wrath </em>.” Aziraphale pulled Crowley back a step by the wrist and then forcefully shoved him back down onto the couch. Before Crowley finished his squeak of protest, Aziraphale took up the dessert plate and thrust it back into the demon’s hands. Crowley looked up at him in shock and just in case he still doubted Aziraphale’s resolve, the angel unfurled his gleaming wings in a burst of righteous feathers. Crowley blinked in surprise. Good.</p><p> </p><p>“Now. TUCK IN!” Aziraphale ordered. Crowley immediately scooped a forkful into his mouth, afraid to take his eyes off the vengeful angel. Aziraphale watched him chew, waited for him to swallow. </p><p> </p><p>“S’good,” Crowley squeaked. Aziraphale nodded, he vanished his wings and straightened his jacket. </p><p> </p><p>“Lovely,” he griped, his voice no longer ringing with echoes of divine choir, but still with the chill of a shopkeeper in a snit. “I’ll fetch the tea.”</p><p> </p><p>******************************************************</p><p> </p><p>Crowley stared, wide eyed, at Aziraphale retreating back. <em> What the sweet fuck was that? </em> Crowley looked down at the plate in his hand. He was about to put it back on the side table, but at this point he wasn’t sure if that was wise. His cheeks burned in shame. He couldn’t believe that Aziraphale had just scolded him like that. Well, Aziraphale often scolded him, but not like that. Not with real anger and over something like...wait, did he accuse <em> Crowley </em> of being the one abandoning their side? The fucking audacity! Crowley did set the plate aside and stood, growling. <em> Fucking wings out and everything! </em> Well, if the angel wanted a blazing row then he’d get one. No one out-dramas Anthony J. Crowley!</p><p> </p><p>Then came the little jingle from the front door opening, and Crowley caught the scent of sulphur and the faint buzzing of thousand distant blackflies. His blood ran cold and suddenly arguing with Aziraphale was the furthest thing from his mind. </p><p> </p><p>He crept around the corridor to see Aziraphale standing stiffly behind the counter. Another couple of steps brought that smug bastard Gabriel into view and then, standing quite a bit shorter, but far more menacingly, was the Prince themselves. </p><p> </p><p>“Come out, traitor," they called. "I can smell you, Crawly even over this dizzzgusting baked stink.”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley straightened up and immediately strolled out in full swagger, about to say something witty when Gabriel lifted his nose and smirked.</p><p> </p><p>"Baked apples? Aziraphale? Isn't that a little on the nose?"</p><p> </p><p>"If it is all the same to you two, I'd rather we forego any unnecessary unpleasantries and get on to the matter at hand," Aziraphale retorted. "I don't care to have either of you here a moment longer than necessary.”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley snapped and instantly the shop door locked and the blinds all slid closed. </p><p> </p><p>"Fine by me," Gabriel agreed with a large, patronizing smile.  "I'm happy to get out of here as soon as possible. The human world is <em> such </em>a mess."</p><p> </p><p>"So you two decided to pop into it and muck it up worse?" Crowley asked, taking this opportunity to fully swagger out. He flicked his tongue at Beelzebub, affecting what he hoped passed for nonchalance, and wove in behind Aziraphale.</p><p> </p><p>"Making things worse izz the entire point of uzz being demonzz, Crawly. Or did you forget what you are after spending zzo much time with <em> him </em>," Beelzebub demanded, their sentences coming quick and sharp. </p><p> </p><p>"But that is certainly not an Angel's job!" Aziraphale exclaimed. "Gabriel, we are supposed to be the good guys. We are charged with upholding the greater —"</p><p> </p><p>"We've been over this, Aziraphale. Don't ever lecture me about doing good. I'm a fucking archangel!"</p><p> </p><p>"I simply don't understand your motivation for tampering with that young woman," Aziraphale chided. "I know we've had our disagreements, but I'm really not sure what I've done to deserve this level of hostility. And to work with <em> them </em>of all people!"</p><p> </p><p>"I was thinking that it didn't seem right to let two traitors simply walk free after completely destroying 6,000 years of work and derailing the plans of twenty million angels and demons. It doesn't sit right with me." Gabriel's tone was infinitely darker than his plastic smile. “We were supposed to have our war!”</p><p> </p><p>“It was written!” Beelzebub wailed.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, yeah, We already went over all that when you two backed down at the airbase,” Crowley snorted. “And then you lot <em> failed </em>to kill us and said you’d leave us alone.”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s right,” Aziraphale confirmed with a confident smile. “And I believe Gabriel told us earlier that you’ve been <em> ordered </em>to leave us alone in fact.”</p><p> </p><p>“We’re past that, Aziraphale,” Gabriel said, his face serious. </p><p> </p><p>“The girl izz an anomaly. Zomething is making her resistant to the deteriorating effects of our powers,” Beelzebub buzzed in frustration. Gabriel looked over at the Prince with a tired look before nodding. </p><p> </p><p>“We were pissed, ok? This whole thing was your faults and you get to just fuck off and do your own thing on Earth while we clean up the mess?” Gabriel fumed. “So we got a little drunk —”</p><p> </p><p>“Shut-up!” Beelzebub howled.</p><p> </p><p>“...and before you know it we found a perfect candidate bleeding to death on a Canadian highway and thought, <em> what the hell </em>?”</p><p> </p><p>“But it doesn’t matter now,” Beelzebub snapped angrily. “She has too much power and must be dezztroyed.”</p><p> </p><p>“You said she was a perfect candidate,” Aziraphale recounted carefully. “What did you mean by that?”</p><p> </p><p>Gabriel gave them both the look of incredulous smugness that suggested the answer was totally obvious and they were idiots for not spotting it. </p><p> </p><p>“She’s descended from the Nephilim. Come on, catch up.”</p><p> </p><p>“She would have dizzolved long before she came to London if she didn’t have some angelic ancestry,” Beelzebub admitted bitterly before spitting on Aziraphale’s floor. </p><p> </p><p>“We could use more time,” Aziraphale stated, giving the rug under the Prince a pained look. Crowley made the mental note to buy the angel a new one. </p><p> </p><p>“How much time?” Gabriel asked, looking skeptical.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m honestly not sure, but more than a month, certainly.”</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t understand why we aren’t just killing her,” Beelzebub hummed.</p><p> </p><p>“Three months, then,” Gabriel suggested. “Three? That sound fair?” He looked between the other three as if they were casually discussing  a meet up and not someone’s death.</p><p> </p><p>“I was hoping for something a bit closer to a year or two,” Aziraphale hinted, but Gabriel and Beelzebub both laughed that suggestion away. Yup, there was something Crowley never wanted to hear again. Beelzebub’s creepy laugh.</p><p> </p><p>“Three months,” the Prince agreed.</p><p> </p><p>“Six,” Crowley countered, making the Prince’s anger flare again. </p><p> </p><p>“I think six is fine," Gabriel shrugged. He looked bored. "She’ll probably have long since died by then anyway.”</p><p> </p><p>“Three months!” Beelzebub shouted, squaring off against the archangel. Gabriel flashed that obnoxious grin at Lord of Flies. They shook with rage then turned to fix Crowley with a chilling stare. “Three monthzz and then I will kill her. Ezzpecially if I get to go through <em> you </em>to do it.”</p><p> </p><p>“Six months,” Gabriel shrugged, giving them both a *its fine, I’ve got this* nod. Beelzebub shrieked in frustration and sank through the floor back to Hell where it was <em> Hell </em>but there was no Gabriel which, Crowley thought briefly for the first time ever, gave Hell a real leg-up over Aziraphale's bookshop.</p><p> </p><p>“Your desire to save her is adorable, Aziraphale,” Gabriel smirked, waving away the stench of sulphur left behind by Beelzebub’s exit. “Lord, that is foul! You’re not going to be powerful enough to pull that energy out of her and keep her heart beating. There’s no point.”</p><p> </p><p>“I am more powerful than you’ve given me credit for, Gabriel,” Aziraphale shot back.</p><p> </p><p>“That’s a fact. You should see how he gets if you refuse one of his desserts,” Crowley joked before he could think better of it and then instantly regretted drawing attention to himself as both angels glared jagged stabby icicles at him.</p><p> </p><p>“I still don’t understand how you two traitors are alive, let alone still able to use your powers,”  Gabriel muttered finally.</p><p> </p><p>“Ineffable,” Aziraphale and Crowley answered in unison.</p><p> </p><p>“Right,” Gabriel replied, sardonic. He started for the door but then slowed and turned back to give Crowley a considering look. Crowley leaned against the counter and arched his eyebrow back at the archangel, pretending he wasn’t sweating into his expensive boots.</p><p> </p><p>“You know, I’m curious how <em> you </em> feel about that,” Gabriel mused, grinning again at Crowley’s confusion. “Rebellion, Treason. Doubt. <em> Questioning </em> . These are the things that caused you to <em> Fall </em>.” Crowley frowned, not liking where this was headed one bit. Aziraphale started fidgeting beside him.</p><p> </p><p>“Now, I’m not an expert on Falling,” Gabriel snorted a laugh, “<em> Can you imagine? </em> But I hear that it is extremely agonizing. I’ve heard it described and it is honestly horrifying,” Gabriel continued. “The long nosedive into boiling sulphur, the shredding of your wings…” Gabriel shuddered dramatically and Crowley clenched his jaw.</p><p> </p><p>“What of it?” Crowley snapped, aware that he was likely blundering into a trap but unable to stay silent any longer.</p><p> </p><p>“You must have suffered unspeakable agony down there, crushing and twisting you from angel to snake. It must have felt like it would go on forever,” Gabriel murmured, and for a <em> moment </em> , it actually looked like he felt sympathy. Crowley <em> almost </em>dropped his guard, distracted by traumatic memories and the archangel’s holy aura demanding he genuflect and beg forgiveness. Crowley silently screamed at his knees to keep them from bending.</p><p> </p><p>“Now here’s Aziraphale, having doubted, questioned, rebelled and betrayed Heaven and yet—”</p><p> Gabriel snapped his fingers and Aziraphale yelped as his wings unfurled against his will. The archangel tsked, snatching a snowy feather out of the air where it had come free. Aziraphale was dumbstruck and Crowley forced his rage down, swallowing it to keep focused.</p><p> </p><p>“Still pristine white,” Gabriel said softly. “He still has holy powers thrumming through his chubby body. He still knows God’s Grace. So I’m curious,” Gabriel smiled at Crowley and the demon tasted bile. “What must you think of that?”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley opened his mouth to tell Gabriel exactly what he thought but all that came out was a furious hiss. Gabriel snapped Aziraphale’s wings away and smirked before vanishing from the shop. </p><p> </p><p>Crowley shook with fury. The counter began to smoulder under his grip. He wanted to scream. He wanted to tear Gabriel’s bloody face off. He wanted to burn Heaven. He wanted some fucking peace.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, Crowley.”</p><p> </p><p>“What?!” He snapped, rounding on Aziraphale and stopping dead in his tracks when he saw the tears. Aziraphale’s cherubic face crinkled into a mask of despair as he wept. Crowley’s ire fizzled out leaving only dread.</p><p> </p><p>“You poor, poor dear,” Aziraphale sobbed.</p><p> </p><p>Crowley’s blood ran cold at the sheer <em> wrongness </em> of his beautiful sunny angel weeping.</p><p> </p><p>"Oh, for...You can't be falling for all that rot, Aziraphale."</p><p> </p><p>"Oh Crowley," the angel whispered. "You must hate me."</p><p> </p><p>Crowley froze, the cold in his blood threatening to turn to ice. Hate <em> Aziraphale </em> ?  He stepped forward, trying to say all the ways that would <em> never </em>be true, the words colliding and creating a traffic jam in his mouth worthy of the M25.</p><p> </p><p>He ended up saying some garbled nonsense instead. Aziraphale sobbed and retreated into the back room. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Fuck. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Crowley was right on Aziraphale's heels, reaching out with a clammy hand to touch one shaking shoulder. </p><p> </p><p>"I truly don't know why I didn't Fall, I only know I couldn't have survived it, Crowley!" Aziraphale cried. "I'm not strong like you are, dear. I'm soft! I'm soft!"</p><p> </p><p>"Angel," Crowley choked on emotion. He couldn't process the thought of this glorious creature <em> Falling </em>. That was unthinkable. He held the angel's face lightly, trying to hold back the silver river of tears with his unworthy hands. He wasn't equipped to give comfort. He lacked the skills, the practice.</p><p> </p><p>"And I had the audacity to flaunt my power with you! To seize you up and use my strength to push you around."</p><p> </p><p>"Uh, you wot?" </p><p> </p><p>"I won the game and you must have <em> despised </em>it all. No wonder you fled from my arms!"</p><p> </p><p>"Oh I <em> definitely </em> didn't despise that— "</p><p> </p><p>"I can't lose you too, Crowley" Aziraphale shook violently under Crowley's hands. The sobbing went on and on. "I could handle losing Heaven in time, my dear, but you...I <em> need </em> you, Crowley! I need you, <em> please </em>!" </p><p> </p><p>Crowley's heart felt close to bursting. This was too much. He panicked, looking around the room for something, (anything!) to cheer the angel, to stop the ugly fearful thoughts Crowley knew all too well.</p><p> </p><p>"Angel, please stop crying," Crowley begged. "I'm with you. I swear it. I—" he spotted the apple tart sitting on the side table and staggered toward it in a barely upright tangle of limbs. "Look! See? I'm eating the tart!" He scooped several forkfuls of pastry into his mouth. "It'ff reallyf ffery gud!"</p><p> </p><p>"Oh, Crowley," Aziraphale cried, but he laughed too. Crowley knew he must have looked quite the sight, shoveling dessert in his face, chewing open-mouthed and desperate in his haste to please Aziraphale. It might have done the trick though, because now the angel was smiling through his tears. He shook his head and gave another wet laugh.</p><p> </p><p>"I won'f leaff you, Afirafalef,” Crowley continued, flakes of pastry flying off his lips. Aziraphale shook his head again and rubbed the slowing tears from his eyes.</p><p> </p><p>"Oh, chew your food, dear,” he sighed warmly. Crowley did, sporting a hopeful little smile as Aziraphale giggled between sniffs and seemed to collect himself. </p><p> </p><p>"I'm a mess," the angel lamented shyly, dabbing his face with a cream-coloured handkerchief. Crowley shrugged and pointed to his own apple laden face in solidarity. Aziraphale chuckled, closing the distance between them. He took the plate from Crowley and set it aside.</p><p> </p><p>"Thank you, my dear," he said quietly. "You really do mean the world to me."</p><p> </p><p>Crowley was stunned and swallowed his mouthful of apple tart in a hard gulp. Aziraphale's eyes, red-rimmed and still beautiful, were locked on Crowley's lips. The angel brushed his thumb across the corner of Crowley's mouth, gathering a bit of apple filling. Crowley groaned when the angel then licked his thumb clean. </p><p> </p><p>"Delicious," Aziraphale whispered. </p><p> </p><p>And then Crowley was kissing him. He didn't remember thinking about doing it. He wasn't sure how he got from point A to point Searing Kiss. His brain was still processing that bit with the thumb on his mouth, (might be processing that later with his hand down his pants), but now his body was happily plunging ahead, sliding his thin fingers through soft blonde curls. He felt Aziraphale's soft mouth open in a surprised "oh," and Crowley used the opportunity to seize the angel's plush bottom lip between his own. He ravished the soft mouth, moaning at the relief of eons of longing. He gripped the back of Aziraphale’s head tightly, angling his face so Crowley could kiss him more deeply, needy and hungry.</p><p> </p><p>It was then that his flagging brain caught up to him and he realized what he was doing.</p><p> </p><p>"Oh shit," he gasped, releasing Aziraphale, feeling instantly guilty and afraid. "Fuck! M'sorry!"</p><p> </p><p>"No, no, darling," Aziraphale babbled quickly, pressing his lips to Crowley's again. "Please, dear," (another kiss) "I liked it."</p><p> </p><p><em> He liked it! </em>That seemed almost too much to believe but Crowley felt it hard to argue with the hot soft mouth pressing against his.</p><p> </p><p>He darted his forked tongue out to flick against Aziraphale's lips and the angel parted for him again so that he could lick against the angel's tongue. Aziraphale shuddered and widened his mouth to deepen the kiss again, wrapping his arms tightly around the demon. Crowley pressed him back, walking the angel backwards until the backs of his knees buckled against the couch. Crowley caught him and laid him back slowly, not daring to break the kiss. </p><p> </p><p>Crowley’s limited mental faculties were stuck on <em> Holy Shit </em> and <em> Finally </em> and <em> That Thing with his Thumb </em>, and Crowley whimpered helplessly and melted down on top of Aziraphale, curling his fingers into the layers of fabric covering the angel's chest and shoulders. It felt sublime and freeing to finally drag his hands over the soft waistcoat and tease at the buttons. He ached to touch every fold in reverence. He hungered to tear it to shreds. He settled for loosening the bowtie and he drew it away slowly, like untying the ribbon around a gift. Aziraphale tilted his head back, meeting Crowley kiss for kiss, wet and hot and deep. Crowley could feel blunt fingers doing their own exploration, sweeping across his back and shoulders. Crowley broke the kiss, letting Aziraphale suck in a gasp of air as the demon trailed slow kisses down his chin and along his jaw. </p><p> </p><p>The angel's skin was intoxicating, all honeysuckle and brown sugar. Book paper and tea. Crowley wanted to taste all of him. He flicked his tongue along the shell of Aziraphale's ear, earning another gasp, then lowered his head to place a long sucking kiss on the side of the angel's throat. Aziraphale moaned loudly, throwing his head back again and Crowley looked up in surprise. The angel held him close, his blue eyes clouded with bliss and his cheeks pink.</p><p> </p><p>"What's wrong?" he asked through kiss-swollen lips.</p><p> </p><p>"That was your cheesecake sound," Crowley grinned down at him. </p><p> </p><p>"Oh, stop," Aziraphale groaned, blushing a darker pink.</p><p> </p><p>"Stop?" Crowley frowned. In truth he was working with barely half a brain at the moment while his overexcited corporation prioritized blood flow to his lower half. He knew he should be wary of that word in this context though.</p><p> </p><p>"Mmm, I mean, stop picking on me, you fiend, and go back to what you were doing to my neck," Aziraphale whined, wrapping strong fingers behind Crowley's head and pushing his face back down against the angel's throat.</p><p> </p><p>Who was he to deny such a delicious request? Crowley wet the flushed skin with his tongue before sealing it with his lips and sucking gently. Aziraphale moaned again and Crowley sucked harder. He felt ecstatic that he could wrest that lovely sound from Aziraphale simply from snogging. Oh, the world of possibilities that opened up. Crowley released his neck and dove for the angel's mouth again with a crushing kiss. Aziraphale was making sweet, insistent sounds against his lips, stroking his back with sliding firm fingers against his ribs. </p><p> </p><p>"YIIIiieee!" Crowley squeaked, tensing up. Aziraphale's eyes flew open in shock for a moment before he laughed.</p><p> </p><p>"Crowley are you <em> ticklish </em>?"</p><p> </p><p>"Er…" Crowley hesitated because honestly he wasn't sure, having never wondered before and then, because <em> any </em>answer seemed dangerous, Crowley retook the angel's smirking mouth with his own. </p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale felt warm under him. Crowley closed his eyes and imagined the pale skin glowing dimly under his lips. He licked a wet trail from the angel's collar up along his Adam's apple (ridiculous name that,) and over his chin, chasing the warmth. Basking in it. Wanting to crawl inside it. </p><p> </p><p>The silence of the bookshop gave way to the liquid sounds between them. Crowley gritted his teeth against a particularly strong pulse of pleasure. Shit, after all the inconvenient erections this week, he never realized it was possible to get <em> this </em>hard. It had been so long since he could touch someone like this. So long since he wanted to. Eons of yearning and hollow unerring loneliness culminating in this achingly sweet press of bodies in the backroom of a bookshop. He wanted it. He wanted it badly. Every single sweet heavenly scrap of it.</p><p> </p><p>Crowley opened his mouth and sank his teeth through the fabric over the angel's clavicle. Aziraphale arched up into him with a small cry. Crowley did it again, harder, the fabric cushioning the bite enough to keep him from breaking skin, but only just. He wanted to sink into this warmth and never come out. He wanted to take and take, free of consequence. </p><p> </p><p>What was beyond anything he could have anticipated were the sweet sounds Aziraphale was making and the hardness Crowley could feel pressed against the outside of his leg. And that knowledge, that undeniable evidence of Aziraphale's arousal, sent his own flying out into orbit.</p><p>Crowley shifted and ground his hips against that hardness and Aziraphale's eyes flew open with a strangled cry of pleasure.</p><p> </p><p>"Too fast!" he squeaked, pushing up against Crowley's weight. Crowley groaned in frustration and loss but he pried himself off the angel. </p><p> </p><p>There were <em> always </em> consequences. He'd <em> always </em> ruin a good thing. His teeth clenched so hard his jaw ached in complaint. <em> Stupid stupid stupid </em>. He tried to turn away, hide his shame but Aziraphale's hands were still tangled in his tie.</p><p> </p><p>"Crowley," Aziraphale whispered urgently but Crowley refused to look at him, too afraid of what he might see in those cerulean eyes. </p><p> </p><p>"Sorry, right," he muttered, reaching to remove the angel's hands from his clothing. "I'll go, if you just—"</p><p> </p><p>"Crowley, I said it was too fast, but —"</p><p> </p><p>"Right, so let me go, Angel and I'll—"</p><p> </p><p>"My dear, I don't want you to go," Aziraphale declared firmly. A gentle tug on Crowley's tie halted the demon's retreat and he finally met the angel's gaze. </p><p> </p><p>The angel looked flushed and his lips were still wet from kissing. He was smiling. </p><p> </p><p>"I need you to <em> hear </em>me, Crowley," the angel maintained.</p><p> </p><p>"Urm..Kay?"</p><p> </p><p>"I very much enjoyed kissing you and would like to do it again, if you are amenable, that is."</p><p> </p><p>"Er…"</p><p> </p><p>"When I said it was too fast, I only meant I'd like to slow down, you see," the angel continued. "I don't want to <em> stop </em>. Just give me a little time to adjust, you understand?"</p><p> </p><p>"Ngk."</p><p> </p><p>"Wonderful," the angel smiled, taking his wordlessness as an affirmative. </p><p> </p><p>"Um…I mean, yeah. I think I could manage. Waited this long, what's another 6,000 years, right?" he joked, trying to will his cock into submission. It would help if Aziraphale would let go of him so he could gain a bit of distance. </p><p> </p><p>"Oh, I shouldn't think it would take anywhere that long, dear," the angel confessed, and his voice was dark and hungry, and <em>shit</em> <em>fuck</em> Crowley hadn't heard <em>that</em> before. He nearly whimpered as he watched Aziraphale's gaze rake down the length of Crowley's body to where their hips so nearly met in black and tan tents.</p><p> </p><p>"Nrm?" Crowley asked, a master of eloquence.</p><p> </p><p>"Oh no, shouldn't take long at all. I must confess, I've longed to know what it would be like…" Aziraphale's blunt fingers twisted further into Crowley's tie, winching the demon an inch closer with another squeak. The blasted angel seemed to have no idea what he was doing to him. Those blue eyes were dark with lust, his pupils blown. His chest rose and fell in quick excited breaths, cooling Crowley's overheated brow with each exhalation. Each puff of air sent another pulse of blood to his groin, already full to critical and straining uncomfortably against all this infernal fabric. The pressure and frustration was teetering between tortuous and exquisite.</p><p> </p><p>"Ah...Angel," Crowley moaned. He was a quivering puddle of pure need, hovering suspended  by shaking arms and crumbling will power over an angel who had told him to <em> slow down. </em></p><p> </p><p>"So much longing, Crowley dear. Did you feel it too, I wonder?"</p><p> </p><p>"Yes. Yes," he panted.</p><p> </p><p>"Just to touch you without Heaven finding out. Without fear. To have you laid out before me like a proper <em> feast, </em> " Aziraphale went on and Crowley could feel the angel's cock lengthen and twitch against his own. Oh <em> fuck, </em> Aziraphale was a menace. Crowley understood at once what it would be like when the angel's golden restraint broke. All that fussy obsession with every other earthly delicacy suddenly aimed, laser focused, on Crowley as something to be explored, to be savoured, slow and pure and complete. </p><p> </p><p>"Let me go, Angel,” Crowley barked in panic. Aziraphale blinked owlishly, finally brought out of his reverie, and his fingers went limp. "Legions Below, Aziraphale. I'm going to fucking come in my jeans, you absolute lunatic," Crowley moaned.</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale grinned wickedly in a way Crowley had never seen before and <em>that</em> <em>did</em> <em>not</em> <em>help</em>.</p><p> </p><p>"Are you really?" he asked with interest. Crowley chuckled and let his forehead rest against Aziraphale's. Holding himself up like this was tiring. </p><p> </p><p>"I wouldn't mind, you know,” Aziraphale offered warmly. He nipped playfully at Crowley's lip. </p><p> </p><p>There should probably have been some resistance on Crowley's part. Some attempt at dignity, feeble though it may have been. Something other than a gasped "N'kay" and boneless moan as Aziraphale pushed him backwards, repositioning them so that Crowley could sink back, his arms floppy and useless. </p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale placed another kiss against his open mouth. </p><p> </p><p>"Is this all right, my dear?" Aziraphale sighed against his hair. Crowley shuddered at the sensation. "I wouldn't want to assume. I want you to be safe and cherished, dear."</p><p> </p><p>"Ah—”<em> Cherished. Safe. </em> "Yes, Aziraphale. So good, Angel.” <em> Holy fuck. </em> The angel was barely touching him!</p><p> </p><p>“You really are so good to me, Crowley,” Aziraphale continued, kissing him sweetly and stroking Crowley’s hair away from his flushed face. “Look at you. So very beautiful…”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley moaned into the angel’s mouth. Every pretty word seemed to go straight to the demon’s cock. He rocked his hips up, desperate for some contact but only fucked air.</p><p> </p><p> "Please, Az...Zira please. I just need something… "</p><p> </p><p>"I have just the thing, I think," Aziraphale murmured. Crowley opened his eyes when he felt his glasses being pulled off. Aziraphale smiled that sunny warm smile as he folded the glasses closed and leaned over Crowley to put them on the side table. Crowley watched the movement, the needless gesture of care and respect and his golden eyes widened when Aziraphale's hand stopped as it passed over the apple tart. A perfect manicured finger pressed through the soft crust of the pastry and curled into the softness inside. Crowley broke out into a sweat. </p><p> </p><p>Then the angel drew out a slice of baked apple, glistening with cinnamon and sugar and Crowley followed its slow progress until Aziraphale stopped and held it delicately between them. Crowley opened his mouth, suddenly desperate for the sweetness, but the angel leaned forward and popped the morsel into his own pink mouth instead. Crowley's groan of disappointment morphed into pleasure as the angel followed this with a nuclear open-mouthed kiss. Crowley let his head fall back, arching up with his hips to thrust against Aziraphale as the angel filled his mouth with tongue and teeth and apples. <em> Apples </em>.</p><p> </p><p>Crowley’s climax took him by surprise. He howled into Aziraphale's mouth bucking like a wild horse and clinging to his waistcoat for dear life as if that could keep him from being lost in the maelstrom. "Ah! Ah! Zira—!" He choked out. Above the pounding of his heartbeat in his ears the thought he heard that sound again. The <em> cheesecake </em> one. </p><p> </p><p>“Yyeerrch,” Crowley groaned when the pleasure abated enough to feel the distasteful slick in his jeans. “Fucking mission accomplished, Angel. Yuck.” Crowley snapped his fingers and the mess vanished leaving him clean, dry, and still not ready to deal with the fact that he had just shot his spend in his own trousers because of some kisses, kindness and baked apples. He dared to glance at Aziraphale, wishing for the security of his glasses. The angel was smiling down at him, gently toying with a lock of Crowley’s hair. There was no trace of ridicule or discomfort in the angel’s eyes. He looked fairly chuffed, actually. And remarkably calm considering the angel was also still hard as oak and poking Crowley in the hip.</p><p> </p><p>“Uh—”</p><p> </p><p>“That was stunning,” Aziraphale sighed. “It looked so satisfying, my dear. Was it?”</p><p> </p><p>“Was…” Crowley struggled to work his brain. Parts of it might have been shot out into his trousers earlier. “Was the...<em> orgasm </em> satisfying?”</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale nodded and Crowley tried once again to figure out how to brain. What kind of question was that? What could he possibly say? On the one hand, he came with barely any contact and he felt pretty certain that he’d be much more satisfied if he could do any of the thousands of things he’d dreamed of doing to the angel over the years…</p><p> </p><p>“What is it like?” Aziraphale wondered out loud and Crowley sighed with relief that the angel was asking about orgasms in general and not that one specifically.</p><p> </p><p>“Will you let me show you?” Crowley grinned. Aziraphale grinned back. </p><p> </p><p>“Absolutely, someday soon, as I said. But for now, couldn’t you just tell me?”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley traced the angel’s top lip with his fingertip, marveling at it as he considered what to say.</p><p> </p><p>“Have you ever seen stars collide, Angel?” Aziraphale shook his head. “Well, you’ve got these two stars, white dwarf, say, and they just orbit each other for millennia, slowly being drawn together over time. So slow you’d think it wasn’t happening, but it is, gravity spiraling them inward toward each other. They get closer and closer until they just crash into each other.”</p><p> </p><p>He checked to see if Aziraphale was still interested. Stars were one of the few things that Crowley really loved from his time <em> before </em>, and felt a little self-conscious to let anyone else see him nerding out over them, but he supposed he could, just this once. If it was for the angel. Aziraphale propped his blonde head on his hand and snuggled into Crowley as much as the narrow couch would allow. He was listening intently and Crowley felt his confidence bolstered by the angel’s keen attention.</p><p> </p><p>“Right, so they merge then, and their combined mass is just too much for any little white dwarf. They ignite, getting hotter and hotter. There's no safe equilibrium between all that pressure and the weight of overlying layers of the star, the centre gets so hot and swollen that…” Crowley illustrates an explosion with his hands and Aziraphale’s eyes widened slightly. “A supernova! And it happens so fast. All that build up over eons and then in a matter of seconds all that white dwarf’s matter is flung out into space.”</p><p> </p><p>“That sounds frightening,” Aziraphale whispered.</p><p> </p><p>“It can be,” Crowley nodded. “S’why the French call it <em> La Petite Mort </em>. But Aziraphale, it is definitely worth it. And I’d…” he felt himself blush and inwardly cursed his stupid heart. “I’d make sure you were safe.”</p><p> </p><p>“Of course you will, dear. I trust you implicitly.” Aziraphale murmured. Crowley’s eyes widened a little in surprise. The angel trusted him? <em> Implicitly </em> ? With <em> that </em>? In an instant he ran through several ways to feel about that and then settled on very very pleased. He smiled at Aziraphale, and for once didn’t try to pretend to be anything other than what he was. A warm, happy demon. </p><p> </p><p>After a few minutes of — (well, Crowley would never call it cuddling, per se, but definitely enjoying a lie down in close proximity where they could give each other gentle touches now and then if they chose to. And they did.) Aziraphale hummed thoughtfully. “We should decide what we are going to do about young Thea.”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley sighed. He didn’t want to move on yet. This was all he’d wanted for so long. </p><p> </p><p>“<em> Or </em>,” he drawled, stretching the word into several syllables and bumping Aziraphale’s cheek with his nose. “I could try to convince you to let me show you the stars.” He blew a gentle hiss into the angel’s ear. </p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale shivered and giggled, wiggling in a very appealing way. Yes, this was a change that Crowley could definitely get behind (and in front, under, over, in and out in quick succession).</p><p> </p><p>“Ahem. All in good time. I’m afraid this can’t wait,” Aziraphale continued more seriously. Crowley reluctantly joined him in the present. “If Thea continues to insist on keeping her abilities, we will need a way to ascertain what those abilities are and how to best teach a mortal to control them.”</p><p> </p><p>This seemed much too difficult. He knew it was important, but couldn’t it wait just a little while longer? Crowley closed his eyes and willed himself to fall asleep.</p><p> </p><p>“Come on, Crowley,” Aziraphale good naturedly ordered. “Let’s get to work, dear.”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley decided to be petulant. He was still basking, damn it. Aziraphale swept his hand over his chest and he sighed at the touch. Then the angel started tickling his ribs again and Crowley flung himself away, shrieking.</p><p> </p><p>“You ARE ticklish! Oh this is splendid!” Aziraphale exclaimed happily, springing off the vacated couch.</p><p> </p><p>Crowley had popped into snake form out of utter shock and his momentum sent him careening across the coffee table, scattering a stack of mail, before he awkwardly hit a bookshelf and flopped onto the floor with a startled hiss. He hid under a nearby chair and glared at the angel.</p><p> </p><p>“Pick yourself up, dear,” Aziraphale grinned down at him. “I’ll make us a fresh pot of tea.”</p><p>
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  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I hope people enjoyed this chapter. Things are going to get a bit spicy in upcoming chapters.</p><p>The Green Fox hungers for comments.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Honeycrisp</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Crowley has his hands full trying to relocate Thea to Mayfair and figure out how to seduce a fussy angel. Things end up not being quite as complicated as he thought, or maybe it is a calm before the storm. It is so hard for a demon to just accept and enjoy a good thing.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>My thanks to pinkpenguinparade for being my patient beta while I knock out these massive chapters, and my thanks to you readers for your patience with this lazy river of Good Omens fics. (And my thanks to Emma for the term “Lazy river of Good Omens fics” and telling me it was okay to write the odd slow chapter.) I'll honestly try to make Chapter 5 shorter, but their dialogue is so snappy I can't resist.</p><p> Please mind that the rating has changed and keep checking the tags. I’ll update them with each chapter as needed.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Getting out while we can</span>
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  <em>
    <span>Waves are crashing on the sand</span>
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    <span>Wash away with the tide</span>
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</p><p>
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    <span>Or walk away right by my side</span>
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</p><p> </p><p>
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    <span>Pick me up when I'm down</span>
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</p><p>
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    <span>Get my feet back on the ground</span>
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</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Holding on with our hands</span>
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    <span>I need you here to help me stand</span>
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</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span><span class="u">Year Zero</span> - Moon Taxi</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“I’d imagine you’d have trouble drinking your tea like that,” Aziraphale told Crowley, not making the slightest attempt to hide his smile as he placed a tray of tea and biscuits on the coffee table. Crowley had managed to come out from under an overstuffed chair but had refused to resume his humanoid form. He glared at Aziraphale from a sulking coil on the coffee table. </p><p> </p><p>“I already said I was sorry for tickling you,” the angel assured him; however he didn’t mean it in the slightest when he had said it, and he didn’t mean it now. Aziraphale was never very good at lying and sure enough the coil of black scales only tightened. </p><p> </p><p>“Very well. More biscuits for me, then. Isn’t it?” Aziraphale said, seating himself and picking a shortbread. He wasn’t going to go without simply because Crowley had his nose out of joint. Aziraphale glanced at said nose now. It was such a lovely shade of obsidian with a shine of dark blue where the light lined his scales. He’d never really taken the time to notice the small pentagon shape at the tip of Crowley’s little head just under where his topaz eyes burned. A little black tongue flicked out at the angel and Aziraphale laughed remembering how Thea had ‘booped’ the demon. He really did make a handsome little snake.</p><p> </p><p>Crowley hissed at Aziraphale’s laugh and suddenly shot out from his coil, lightning quick, and snatched the shortbread from the angel’s plate, retreating to the coil once more. Aziraphale gasped at the sudden movement and frowned as Crowley made a show of opening his jaws and slowly swallowing the biscuit whole. Aziraphale pursed his lips and picked up another one from the tray. He knew what Crowley was doing. Everything about this tantrum seemed to say “<em> I can do this all night.” </em> </p><p> </p><p>And it was ridiculous to press it at the moment. They truly <em> did </em> have important matters to discuss and Aziraphale <em> should </em>be doing everything in his limited power to get the demon to cooperate, but...he felt guilty for admitting it when things currently looked so dire for poor Thea, but this was rather fun, and Crowley did look rather adorable, and just once couldn’t Aziraphale be the stubborn one?</p><p> </p><p>“Your tea is cooling down,” Aziraphale huffed, torn. He knew he’d not be able to leave it much longer, and Crowley likely knew it too. “It is the Keemun tea you liked so much,” Aziraphale added, lifting a cup to his own lips and blowing across its surface toward the demon, hoping to entice him with the fruity, floral scent. </p><p> </p><p>Crowley’s tongue flicked wildly for a moment and he uncoiled, moving toward the other cup, surrounding it. He lifted his little head above the rim and Aziraphale smiled smugly and lifted a brow in amused expectation when Crowley’s round eyes glanced at him. Aziraphale weezed a surprised laugh when Crowley dropped his entire snout into the amber liquid and started taking healthy gulps. He looked ridiculous and adorable and so bloody <em> stubborn </em>. Clearly the demon was more dedicated to this than Aziraphale was so the angel relented with another laugh.</p><p> </p><p>“All right, you mulish serpent! I will not tickle you again,” Aziraphale promised. “Not for the rest of the night, at least,” he added, biting his lip to keep from smiling at the memory of Crowley’s shriek. Crowley lifted his head from the cup, drops of tea sliding over his scales and dripping from his snout. Another tongue flick. <em> Not good enough. </em> </p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale sighed. “I’m not going to promise to <em> never </em> do it again, Crowley. <em> Forever </em>is a very long time for us." </p><p> </p><p>Crowley dipped his face into the cup again. Aziraphale started to feel annoyed. It amazed him that Crowley could go from desperately snogging and begging to petty plays at control within the space of an hour. Aziraphale felt his body respond to the memory of Crowley writhing below him, golden eyes glazed in pleasure, mouth slack and kiss-swollen as he gasped and moaned. Aziraphale quickly cleared his throat to keep a groan from bubbling up and shifted on his seat. Maybe he shouldn’t have sat back on this couch. Crowley had lifted his head from his drink again, flicking that tongue out at Aziraphale as if tasting the desire seeping off the angel. Aziraphale blushed when he realized that was likely exactly what Crowley was doing. Well, that would be <em> one </em>way to get Crowley out of his serpentine form, but wouldn’t facilitate conversation. It did give Aziraphale another idea, however.</p><p> </p><p>“You know, Crowley,” he said softly (hoping he sounded seductive, fearing he sounded desperate.) “It isn’t a bad thing for me to know spots on your body that are so sensitive. I would hope you’d let me explore it again...but if you are determined to stay a serpent until I swear…” he trailed off, unsure of how he should end this gambit. Crowley shifted off the table, standing up and stretching his long arms and legs before joining Aziraphale on the couch and reaching for his teacup. Aziraphale grinned at him. Crowley returned his smile with a little nod of respect.</p><p> </p><p>“You make a fair point, Angel,” he purred. “Although I had no idea you’d be such a damn tease.”</p><p> </p><p>“At risk of being <em> exactly </em>that, I need to insist that we discuss this business with Thea,” Aziraphale said seriously. There would be time to make good on his implied suggestion later.</p><p> </p><p>“You mentioned something about finding out what she can do being the first step, yeah?” Crowley said.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, I think that would be a logical first step. She likely doesn’t know the extent of it herself, but there may be more to it than healing and manifesting flatware.” It frightened Aziraphale to think of some of the more destructive angelic and demonic abilities being triggered in a human. They needed to isolate her quickly, just in case. He should have <em>insisted</em> on that right away. What had he been thinking? Dread seeped, cold and harsh down his spine, the first prickles of panic. </p><p> </p><p>Crowley shrugged and opened his mouth to say something but Aziraphale suddenly latched onto the demon’s arm, speaking over him in a torrent of words.</p><p> </p><p>“Crowley, we’ve been terribly irresponsible, leaving that girl in Waltham Forest. What if she loses control and hurts herself? Or another person? If she somehow manages to reach into a pocket of Gabriel’s power she could cause an awful swath of destruction, not to mention what she could do if the power she reaches is Beelzebub’s. We have to move her now!” </p><p> </p><p>Crowley’s golden eyes were wide as he took in Aziraphale’s panic and for the life of him Aziraphale didn’t know why the demon wasn’t moving! </p><p> </p><p>“Angel, she’s not going anywhere at this hour. She’s human and she’s had<em> a bit of day</em>. Let the girl sleep. We’ll get her in the morning,” Crowley soothed, gently coaxing Aziraphale’s white fingers from where they gripped his jacket. He held Aziraphale’s hands in his and gave them a gentle squeeze. “It will be all right for one night, Angel. I’ll get her first thing in the morning. I promise. It will be all right.”</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale felt the panic ebb slightly and gulped in a breath, forcing himself to nod. Crowley was right. They needed to keep their heads, and the girl needed sleep even if they didn’t. They could use the time productively and plan for how to test Thea, to train her, or to contain her if...if she…</p><p>Aziraphale pulled his clammy hands back from Crowley and pressed them to his chest, feeling his lungs contract again painfully. For the briefest moment he thought he was drowning, then Crowley pulled him back against him and held him tightly, laying gentle kisses in his hair as Aziraphale unraveled into tears for the second time tonight.</p><p> </p><p>“We’ll sort it all out, Angel,” Crowley consoled him. “You and I faced Satan himself with little more than a sword and a tyre iron, we can handle some fucking piss bureaucrats.” </p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale sucked air into his lungs desperately as blackness swirled at the edge of his vision. Crowley held him and he felt as though he were treading water, clinging to the demon as if Crowley were all that kept him from sinking into an unfathomable abyss. It wasn’t the first time this heavy dread and panic had overtaken Aziraphale, but it was the first time someone was there to pull him out of the cold despair. Crowley rocked with him. Crowley stroked his back and his arms and his hair. Crowley reminded him how to breathe, how to fight, how to think. Every soft word brought him closer to solid ground and when he stopped shaking Crowley gently placed Aziraphale’s favorite pen in his damp limp fingers. Aziraphale looked at the pen, touching its familiar smooth length.</p><p> </p><p>“You are the most clever, insufferably pragmatic creature I have laid eyes on,” Crowley told him, kissing away the last of his tears. “Maybe you forgot how clever you are for a moment, but trust me, <em> I’d </em>never make that mistake,” the demon smiled almost playfully, but if he was teasing Aziraphale, the angel only felt love. “Make a list of powers you think she might have. I’ll do the same. It will give us a place to start.”</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale tried to say something, but his chest still felt tight and he didn’t trust his voice. He sniffed and nodded, and took the legal pad Crowley offered and settled next to the demon, letting his shoulder lean against his solidness. Crowley nudged him companionably and began writing. The sound of Crowley’s pen scratching eased Aziraphale into his own list, the glide of pen on paper bringing the angel back into himself and the productive orderly nature of listmaking grounding him. His head pounded a little, a final remnant of the panic attack as it faded, so Aziraphale sipped his tea and had a biscuit and gave himself a little bit of healing to chase the headache away. He’d never healed his headaches before, but this time he thought maybe Crowley would want him to, and that made it all right. The throbbing in his temples receded, and Aziraphale let himself slowly relax against Crowley as he finished his list. Crowley’s proximity felt so comforting after his panic, so he let himself take a minor risk and rested his head on the demon’s lap. If this bothered him in any way, he certainly didn’t let on.</p><p> </p><p>It was little over an hour before Crowley started tapping his pen against his teeth, looking at his list.  Aziraphale glanced over at him. “Are you finished with your list?” he asked.</p><p> </p><p>“I can’t imagine she has even a fifth of these, but these are all the various demonic abilities I can think of at the moment,” Crowley answered, his eyes going over the list and frowning. </p><p> </p><p>“May I?” Aziraphale asked, holding his hand out for it. Crowley hesitated for the briefest moment before letting Aziraphale take the pad from him. He understood the hesitation. Before everything that had happened in the last few months sharing such a list would have been a terrible betrayal of their respective sides. Aziraphale tore the list from the legal pad and added it under his own list before turning to the demon.</p><p> </p><p>“I want to thank you —”</p><p> </p><p>“We don’t have to talk about it,” Crowley said. He smiled sheepishly, running a hand through his red hair. “Not like I’ve never seen a panic attack before.”</p><p> </p><p><em> Oh </em>. </p><p> </p><p>“Er. I meant to thank you for agreeing to take Thea to your building,” Aziraphale said, blushing. “But, yes. Thank you for that too.”</p><p> </p><p>“Ermph,” Crowley scrunched his face in a distasteful grimace. Aziraphale knew how little the demon enjoyed discussing messy feelings. Aziraphale barreled on ahead before Crowley could regret his kindness further. “You no doubt need some time to sort out a spot for her. You did promise me you’d make her a studio as well,” he smiled warmly.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh? Does that mean you’ll finally stop using my bloody legs as a pillow?” Crowley hissed, but there was no malice in it and Aziraphale knew he was grateful for the change of subject. Aziraphale pushed himself back upright. </p><p> </p><p>“I mean it, Crowley. I truly appreciate it. I know you do not share your space lightly, but this will be so much better for her,” Aziraphale continued, ignoring Crowley’s embarrassed sneer. “I’ll go through these lists and try to come up with a plan on how to proceed once she is settled in Mayfair. You’re sure you don’t need help collecting her?”</p><p> </p><p>“I think I can handle it, Angel,” Crowley snorted.</p><p> </p><p>“And you’ll be gentle?” Aziraphale asked. But it was less of a question and more of a request. Crowley rolled his eyes.  “Crowley, please be sensitive to her. The poor thing is bound to be overwhelmed. I know she pushes your buttons, but if you could please be kind to her I’d be very grateful.”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley snorted again and grumbled something unintelligible but the angel thought he heard the word “boop” uttered along with a couple ugly threats.</p><p> </p><p>“<em> Very </em> grateful,” Aziraphale added, smiling warmly. He had meant it as a token of understanding Crowley’s plight, but it came out with more heat than he had intended and Aziraphale was instantly blushing at the sudden bloom of interest in Crowley’s face. It <em> did </em>get the demon to agree to be gentle, though.</p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p> </p><p>“<b>IT’S TRAINING DAY!</b>”</p><p> </p><p>Thea screamed as the voice tore though her dream and wrenched her awake. She bolted upright in bed, clutching the blanket to her chest in shock as her eyes focused on the man standing at the foot of her bed. Not a man though, she remembered. She blinked at him, trying to make sense of him being in her apartment, <em> in her room </em>, shouting at her. He smirked mischievously, enjoying her shock, but a vivid green light swirled around him as it always had and, knowing she wasn’t in danger, Thea grumbled to herself and pulled the blanket over her head. She was exhausted. She had drunk too much last night and lay awake for hours before finally sinking into a sleep fraught with nightmares.</p><p> </p><p>“Oi!” the not-a-man shouted, giving the bedframe a kick from the feel of it. She lifted her head to glare at him. </p><p> </p><p>“Demon, right?” she said, making sure she remembered it right. He nodded.</p><p> </p><p>“Thatssright,” he grinned.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, I can <em> see </em> it <em> now </em>,” she snapped.</p><p> </p><p>“Up!” he kicked her bed again. “S’training day. Get a move on.  We’re leaving in ten minutes.”</p><p> </p><p>“I thought I was supposed to call Aziraphale in the morning,” Thea protested with a yawn. She had worried several creases into the heavy ivory cardstock as she paced the apartment last night.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s past eleven,” the demon stated dryly. “I knocked. I banged on the door. Finally decided to just go ahead and fetch you. Just as well. Who knows how long you’d be sleeping off that rotgut?”</p><p> </p><p>“Fuck. What?” Thea glanced at her cheap alarm clock. It was indeed well past eleven. Still, that hardly excused breaking and entering.</p><p> </p><p>“Nine minutes.”</p><p> </p><p>“Where are we going?” Thea growled, throwing off the blanket and stalking over to her suitcase to find something clean to wear. She had never unpacked her things into the mildewy dresser against the wall. She stood scratching her head, then looked around the room when she couldn’t find her suitcase. </p><p> </p><p>“Um… Did you rob me?” she asked nervously, seeing all her pictures and personal items suddenly missing from the room. The demon laughed. Thea opened her bedroom door and sure enough all of her sketches and posters and anything remotely hers had vanished. Thea felt a moment of panic and turned back to snickering intruder. “Seriously? Is this because I booped you?”</p><p> </p><p>The demon (Crowley, wasn’t it?) grinned. “The good news is that you’re moving out to Mayfair,” he said lightly. “In five minutes, I might add. You wanted our help, so now you’re going to shut up, keep your booping fingers to yourself, and listen to your new godfathers.”</p><p> </p><p>Thea squinted at him, feeling her face flush with anger at his tone. Then everything from the previous day washed over her and she felt so tired, and that green light still swirled around the demon no matter how menacing his smile. She sighed and shrugged, standing in the living room in her blue bunny pajamas and bare feet with a demon. </p><p> </p><p>“Ok,” she said, “but I’d really love it if we could stop for coffee on the way, and since you stole my purse <em> along with literally everything else I own </em>, you’re buying.”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley was clearly expecting more of an argument, and Thea smiled inwardly at the look of surprise under those dark glasses.<em> It was the little victories.  </em></p><p> </p><p>“Good?” he drawled suspiciously. He slid around her closer to the door. Maybe he thought she was going to run. She wasn’t stupid. Where could she go? Besides, it wasn’t as though she were attached to this place. It smelled, and the landlord leered. She had no idea what to expect wherever they were going, but they were going somewhere and just the <em> going </em>of it felt like progress. </p><p> </p><p>“Did you steal my shoes too?”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley waved her attention to the door and her runners were still there, as was her coat. The satchel she used as a purse had reappeared too. Obviously he <em> wasn’t </em>going to buy her coffee. She leaned against the door and pulled the shoes on, then ran her fingers through her long hair, hoping it was lying somewhat flat. Crowley shook his head, incredulous at her apparent cooperation. Thea got the idea he was probably difficult to please. She stuck her tongue out at him.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re a bit mad, aren’t you,” he muttered.</p><p> </p><p>“You said to listen to you,” Thea answered exasperated.  “And I <em> trust </em> you so if you say I’m moving out, then I guess I’m moving out. I mean, <em> you already moved me out </em> from the looks of things, and you seem to be on a tight schedule...”</p><p> </p><p>“You trust me?” Crowley asked. He looked both pleased <em> and </em> disappointed and the green light around him glowed a shade brighter, pulsing and swirling faster.  It made her feel dizzy so she looked away, pulling her apartment key off her key ring and tossing it on the counter beside the three spoons that had congregated there overnight. She’d never talked about the lights with another soul, but if anyone was going to make sense of it this guy— <em> guy </em> ? Whatever. This <em> jerk </em>could.</p><p> </p><p>“It started after the accident,” she started. “I see a light around just about everyone I meet. Like a traffic light, green, amber, or red. It tells me if I can trust them. So far it’s never wrong.” She looked up at Crowley and the green light had stopped its dance and congregated over the demon’s chest in a bright little ball. Crowley seemed surprised at this information, but he wasn’t laughing at her or cussing her out. He just seemed to be mulling it over.</p><p> </p><p>“And I’m...I’m a <em> green </em>light then?” he asked cautiously. Thea nodded. “Useful trick, that,” he said, clearing his throat and striding past her into the corridor. Thea swallowed her disappointment when she realized that was all she was going to get. She closed the door, and put her satchel over her shoulder. Then she left the building wearing only a coat, pajamas and sneakers with an actual honest to god demon and all she could think about was how much she hoped he’d stop for that coffee.</p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p> </p><p>Crowley yelled a series of obscenities out his window at the <em> apparent slowest driver in Europe </em> before slamming the accelerator and screaming the Bentley around the codger. Thea faced straight ahead but eyed Crowley sideways. </p><p> </p><p>"Fuck you too, sleet!" Crowley growled flinging the wet drops from his wrist as he rolled the window back up. The weather was particularly <em> English </em> today. "Now, what did you say?" he asked.</p><p> </p><p>"I wondered where we were going to do this training?" Thea asked again.</p><p> </p><p>"Don't know exactly. Don't care so long as it is someplace warm. I hate all this damn cold." Crowley muttered with a shiver. </p><p> </p><p>"Is that because of…" Thea trailed off with a nervous shrug then pointed down. Crowley scoffed.</p><p> </p><p>"You know parts of Hell are actually cold."</p><p> </p><p>"I did <em> not </em> know that," Thea stated. " <em> Why </em> would I know that?"</p><p> </p><p>Crowley didn't answer. He didn't want to talk about Hell.</p><p> </p><p>"So what have you got against angels?" he demanded. She blinked in surprise at the sudden turn in conversation. Crowley shot her an expectant look and she shrugged.</p><p> </p><p>"Not a big fan of their current plan to murder me, if that's what you mean."</p><p> </p><p>"It's not and you know it," Crowley snapped. "Demons are involved in that plot too and you're not frosty with <em> me </em>."</p><p> </p><p>Thea rolled her eyes and Crowley ground his teeth. "Is this about <em> Aziraphale </em>?" she asked, annoyed. </p><p> </p><p>"He's got his own problems. Don't take your shit out on him, we clear?" Crowley hissed. The last thing any of them needed was this little shit giving the poor angel another anxiety attack. Thea looked out the window, her expression was distant and petulant. It was <em> Crowley's </em>look and he didn't appreciate being put in the role of responsible adult. </p><p> </p><p>"I get it," he appealed. "The Host are a bunch of sanctimonious wankers and absolutely no fun, but believe me when I tell you that the other side is <em>not</em> <em>better.</em>"</p><p> </p><p>"Obviously," she muttered.</p><p> </p><p>"So fucking be nice to Aziraphale or I'll turn you into goo myself," he hissed.</p><p> </p><p>"Fine! Jesus!" she tossed up her hands in exasperation. "It isn't personal!"</p><p> </p><p>"All angels are your shit list?" he jabbed back.</p><p> </p><p>Thea shrugged and looked out the window. Crowley could feel her anger flaring hot and white, with the cold swirl of grief again underneath it.</p><p> </p><p>"Because of the accident?" he asked, but he knew the answer so he didn't press when she ignored him. They drove in silence for a while.</p><p> </p><p>"This traffic light thing you see on people," Crowley said finally, trying a different tack. "You said it was green for me and that meant you can trust me?” Thea rubbed her eyes and nodded. She looked tired.  "And it is never wrong?" he clarified. </p><p> </p><p>"So far."</p><p> </p><p>"And what colour do you see for Aziraphale?" he asked, smiling his best smarmy smile. Thea shot him a nasty look and grumbled something unintelligible. "Thea," Crowley prompted, drawing her name out several extra syllables.</p><p> </p><p>"Green," she muttered. Thea was sulking now so Crowley trusted he’d made his point and let it go for now.</p><p> </p><p>He pulled up to his usual spot beside his building and parked, patting the dashboard once as the engine rumbled to a stop. Thea was looking around at the tall buildings and Crowley realized she probably didn’t know where they were. </p><p> </p><p>“Welcome to Mayfair,” he declared with a little hand flourish as he left the Bentley. He didn’t look back while he strode toward his building. He heard her rush to follow him, wincing at the slam of the car door (Too hard!), then smirking at the slap of her trainers as she ran to catch up with him. </p><p> </p><p>“Am I staying with you?” she asked.</p><p> </p><p>“Wot?” Crowley spat. “No. Fuck no. Just sharing a building. Not going to even be on the same floor.” He opened the door to the lobby and gently shoved her through when she dawdled. She looked around the cold clean lobby with its mirrored walls and hard lines and Crowley waited for her to say something clever or snarky while he pushed the call button for the lift. Thea had only shrugged and her face was impassive. Crowley led her into the lift when the door opened, a bit more gently this time.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re the seventh floor,” He told her, pushing the button for her. She nodded, seemingly deep in thought. “Did you <em> think </em> you were going to stay with <em> me </em>?” he asked when she still said nothing.</p><p> </p><p>“Hmm? Oh. Not really. I wasn’t really <em> expecting </em>any of this,” she murmured earnestly. “I’m just, you know, trying to roll with it.”  Crowley nodded slowly, not wanting to admit to himself that he was somewhat impressed with her adaptability. If it were him, he’d be kicking and screaming and stubbornly making every fucking thing as hard as possible for everyone. Especially himself. He had a strange moment of surreal gratitude for being on this side of the equation. Crowley sighed in resignation.</p><p> </p><p>“Um...There’s a coffee maker in your new flat,” Crowley said more companionably as the lift doors slid open at the seventh floor. He smiled inwardly at how her eyes lit up at that. He moved her into the corridor. “You didn’t seem to have much in the way of personal items, but I’ve moved what you had into the bedroom. You can use this to get anything else you might need,” he added, taking out his wallet and pulling out a shiny black credit card. </p><p> </p><p>Thea’s eyes widened as she took the card and Crowley was pleased to notice her pumpkin coloured eye meant she’d taken his advice about 86ing the silly contact lenses. Then he remembered he’d woken her up and shoved her out the door so quickly she wouldn’t have had time to put it in if she had wanted to. She was still wearing her flannel pajamas. <em> Shit, Crowley, you bastard, </em> he berated himself. <em> You were supposed to be gentle with her, the angel said. Sure you’re a demon, but did you have to be such an ass? </em></p><p> </p><p>“Um, wow, thanks,” Thea was saying, still fiddling with the credit card. “I’m embarrassed to ask but what’s the balance?”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley shrugged. “Better if you don’t know,” he drawled. The truth was that Crowley didn’t remember putting a balance on the card when he miracled it into being, but she didn’t need to know that. Thea, however, seemed to think she should know that.</p><p> </p><p>“If I’m going to use this, shouldn’t I know my budget?” she fretted. It looked like she was considering giving Crowley the card back! “I don’t want to exceed it. I don’t want to get you into any financial —”</p><p> </p><p>“Any <em> trouble </em> ?” Crowley laughed. “You don’t want to get me into any <em> financial trouble </em>?” he laughed again. Humans had such small stupid minds. Thea was honestly worried about taking advantage of Crowley financially. </p><p> </p><p>“You sad silly human,” he said affectionately. “You won’t <em> exceed the balance </em>.” Thea tapped the card against her thumb, giving Crowley a measuring look while he laughed at her. He saw a bit of a rebellious smile curve her lips.</p><p> </p><p>“Put your hand on the doorknob,” he told her when they came to her flat, still chuckling a bit. 701. It was the corner flat and directly under Crowley’s in case there happened to be any trouble. </p><p> </p><p>“I do know how doorknobs work, thanks,” Thea replied. She grasped the knob and it glowed red and orange as infernal sigils burned into the metal and scrawled out along the door frame. Thea held her breath, and Crowley wondered if it had hurt. He hadn’t considered that when he created the spell. Oops. Too late now.</p><p> </p><p>“Er, y’all right?” he asked. She nodded, looking at her hand. For a moment, Crowley thought he saw a shadow move across her palm, but it was gone in an instant. He blinked. Thea looked at him quietly, and then at the door.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s a ward,” he explained. “It will let you in now. Aziraphale and I can enter too, I made sure of that, but anyone else trying to come in uninvited will get a nasty surprise.”</p><p> </p><p>“Where’s the lock?” she asked, inspecting the doorknob.</p><p> </p><p>“Why would you need a lock?” Crowley grumbled. <em> We just covered this </em>. “You don’t need a key. You own the flat. It is always locked. It will just let you in.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh.” </p><p> </p><p>Small stupid minds.</p><p> </p><p>Thea opened the door and walked in but froze just inside the door, forcing Crowley to push her further in so he could enter as well. She seemed surprised. Crowley narrowed his eyes in consternation. He hoped he’d done a good enough job. It wasn’t like he was an expert at setting up young artists in new flats. He’d done an hour or so of research on home studios and figured this ought to do.</p><p> </p><p>He had removed a wall, leaving exposed brick around the support columns, but creating an open concept while still managing to divide the front space in half. The right side had hardwood, sporting a blue and grey rug (she said she liked cerulean). A grey couch, chair and loveseat surrounded a heavy wood coffee table and a properly terrorized fiddle leaf fig plant stood upright in the corner. Black and blue throw pillows were placed with artful nonchalance and her blue sketchbook waited beside her old pencil case on the side table by the loveseat. Behind the couch was a long narrow bar separating the lounge from the shiny stainless steel kitchen. All modern appliances, and the refrigerator was fully stocked. The bar was as well, with several various bottles of rye whiskey and a few vintages that Crowley and Aziraphale enjoyed.</p><p> </p><p>Thea was not looking at that side of the flat. The left side had a simple concrete floor. The windows had been modified to be floor to ceiling and flooded the flat in natural light. There were two large wooden desks and a standing easel. A pile of stretched canvases of various sizes and widths was stacked in the corner. There was also a metal tilted desk with a wheelie cart beside it stacked with tins of pencil crayons, charcoal and oil pastels. Every desk had its own waste bin and Crowley had put in a sink area in what had originally been a breakfast nook.</p><p>He hadn’t been sure if she worked with oils but he gave her a collection of oil paints (and acrylic, and watercolours) along with some bottles of solvents and installed an air system more than capable of handling any such fumes. There was a large paper shelving unit against the near wall and a supply cupboard filled with extra pencils, paints, brushes and cleaning supplies. </p><p> </p><p>Near the corridor to the back rooms was a small bookshelf with books on art history, art theory, and art techniques. He hadn’t spent 6000 years around Aziraphale to not create a space with specialized books in it. Crowley looked it all over, going over an inventory list in his mind. He thought it should do. He was actually a little proud of it.</p><p> </p><p>“Holy Fuck,” Thea breathed and it sounded as though she had been holding her breath. She took another couple tentative steps into the studio area. “Did you rob an art store?”</p><p> </p><p>“The angel liked your drawings,” Crowley muttered. </p><p> </p><p>“I did, indeed,” Aziraphale agreed, coming up behind him. Crowley instantly felt his spine straighten at the angel’s voice and schooled his body not to blush. He tossed a casual look over his shoulder as Aziraphale entered the flat, taking in all the detail with sparkling blue eyes. </p><p> </p><p>“Oh, Crowley,” Aziraphale’s face was shining with joy again and Crowley instinctively leaned into the praise he knew was coming. “Oh, my dear boy! You have outdone yourself,” Aziraphale turned and gave the demon a grateful smile. </p><p> </p><p>Thea had gotten over her nerves and was eagerly exploring the studio now, lightly running her hands over various bottles and surfaces. Aziraphale was watching her now and his joy became clouded a bit by confusion.</p><p> </p><p>“Why is she wearing pajamas?”</p><p> </p><p>“Er,” Crowley stalled. “Just...eager to see the new place.”</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale shrugged and miracled away his heavy winter coat before holding up a ridiculous overstuffed wine basket. “I brought a housewarming gift. I’ll just go set it in the kitchen.”</p><p> </p><p>“Mm Hmm” Crowley hummed. He feigned disinterest but watched Aziraphale intently as the angel walked away. It wasn’t the first time he had admired the subtle roll of those round hips, and it wouldn’t be the last. Although now that he had kissed the angel, and knew that there was more kissing in their future, those hips suddenly held promise that hadn’t ever been there before. If only he could convince Aziraphale to join him upstairs for some wine after this. Unfortunately, they’d need to see that Thea was settled first and that wasn’t going to happen while she tinkered with pots of paint.</p><p> </p><p>“Oi, rotten human,” he called. Thea looked up at him, wearing as big a smile as Aziraphale’s had been. Crowley scowled, trying not to acknowledge the stupid fuzzy feeling that gave him. “Put your toys down and look at the rest of your flat. Then get some actual clothes on.”</p><p> </p><p>“Crowley, I don’t know how to thank you for all this,” Thea babbled excitedly. Her eyes shone with unshed tears. Crowley drew in on himself somewhat and pulled up his best sneer as a shield against all that mushy emotion. </p><p> </p><p>“S’Fine,” he muttered as she bounced over to him, completely ignoring his sneer.</p><p> </p><p>“Can I hug you?” she asked, grinning.</p><p> </p><p>“No, you can’t fucking hug me!” Crowley spat, feeling horrified. “Go hug <em> the angel </em>. It was his bloody idea.”</p><p> </p><p>“Moving into the building may have been my idea, Crowley dear,” Aziraphale sing-songed as he summoned a bowl of fruit on the kitchen counter. “The art studio was entirely your idea.”</p><p> </p><p>Thea shuffled, still nearly vibrating with joy, but she was no longer threatening to hug Crowley. He kicked his sneer up a few notches just in case.</p><p> </p><p>“Well, thank you,” she said, then finally acknowledged Aziraphale’s presence. “Thank you both.”</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale looked up at that and smiled. She joined him in the kitchen and opened her arms in an offer of a hug, The bloody angel looked like he would melt from happiness and wrapped her in his warm arms. </p><p> </p><p>That’s a decent way to thank him, Crowley thought. All he really wanted from her was for her to be nice to Aziraphale. Look how bloody happy it made him. The demon rolled his eyes. They whispered something back and forth, as friendly as they had been before Thea learned Aziraphale was an angel, and then Thea left to explore the bedroom and study. Those rooms would be serviceable but Crowley had decided to focus his attention on the details out here. Thea could use her shiny new card to outfit the other rooms as she liked.</p><p> </p><p>“I fully stocked the kitchen, if you noticed,” he boasted as he joined the angel in the kitchen. He knew Aziraphale would be pleased, but wanted to hear it. </p><p> </p><p>“I did notice,” the angel said, lightly touching Crowley’s cheek with an affectionate hand. Crowley pressed his cheek into the angel’s palm a millisecond before his brain told him, <em> no don’t do that. Stay cool. </em> He quickly turned away to hide his burning cheeks and pretended to go through the fruit Aziraphale had created.</p><p> </p><p>“So you like all this,” Crowley asked.</p><p> </p><p>“I do,” Aziraphale confirmed. “And Thea seems over the moon.”</p><p> </p><p>“So…” he trailed off. How did he tactfully maneuver Aziraphale up to his flat? Wasn’t he supposed to be good at tempting people? Wasn’t this his whole deal? Why was it suddenly so hard?</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale put a tin of biscuits in the cupboard then joined Crowley where he was hiding by the fruit.</p><p> </p><p>“So…” Aziraphale picked up where Crowley had left off, picking up a perfect red apple from the bowl and polishing it against his waistcoat. “I’m <em> very </em>grateful.” And there it was. The heat in the word “very” just like back at the bookshop, and Crowley suddenly realized that maneuvering the angel might not be as difficult as he feared. </p><p> </p><p>“It might interest you to know,” Aziraphale continued in a low voice, still moving the apple back and forth over his chest, “that I had an opportunity to do some <em> reading </em> .” The angel said the word <em> ‘reading’ </em> in a way that curled around Crowley’s shoulders and purred like a cat. Crowley felt his cock take a keen interest in learning more about what Aziraphale was <em> reading </em>.</p><p> </p><p>“Hrm?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, well. You know how I like to be prepared,” the angel continued with a coquettish smile. </p><p> </p><p>"Angel?" Crowley purred. "Are you teasing me?"</p><p> </p><p>"I'm sure I have no idea what you are talking about, my dear,” Aziraphale replied. His little coy smile spoke volumes. Crowley felt another twitch in his cock and his hand started to reach for Aziraphale before he caught himself. He wanted to drag the teasing angel upstairs and peel him out of that stuffy outfit and— (immediately thirty different scenarios raced through his mind ranging from naughty to downright profane), and one scenario that was so slow and sweet and almost <em> wholesome </em> and Crowley would deny thinking it until the end times came around again.</p><p> </p><p>He let himself stare at Aziraphale, not making the slightest attempt to hide his lustful gaze. If Aziraphale was teasing him, then the angel wanted to see it. The angel's blue eyes widened for a moment and his cheeks flushed a lovely pink. Then his expression became thoughtful and he seemed to be considering the demon in a new way. That was even more exciting. Crowley was losing his battle of control over his growing erection. </p><p> </p><p>"The view is amazing!" Thea exclaimed from the corridor. Aziraphale moved away adopting a more neutral expression. He placed the apple on the counter and the placement seemed deliberate. Not back into the bowl. <em> Later </em>, that apple seemed to say.</p><p> </p><p>Thea came into the kitchen wearing a light blue Henley and jeans, tying her hair back in a loose bun. She cast another longing look at the studio before hunting around on the counter for something.</p><p> </p><p>"You said there was a coffee maker?"</p><p> </p><p>"Pantry," Crowley gestured toward the door to the side of the kitchen with his chin. It opened into a small storage area with a little counter and an espresso machine.</p><p> </p><p>"This is what you call a coffee maker?" Thea squealed. Crowley gave an indignant snort. It made coffee didn’t it? A second later he realized she was happy and meant it as a compliment. Crowley started to wonder if twisting people’s words was a habit of his, then quickly remembered, nah. He’s a demon. Assuming the worst was probably the safest course.</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale was smiling contentedly as Thea bustled around the espresso machine, and Crowley frowned, his mind starting to convince him he’d twisted everything that had happened before Thea walked in. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> I’m very grateful. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I’ve been reading. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> You know how I like to be prepared </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>That was all pretty innocuous, wasn’t it? The words were all classic Aziraphale. Had Crowley imagined the tone? Of fucking course his filthy reptilian brain twisted this completely innocent conversation into a base fantasy. Damn him, why did he always have to be such a disgusting awful fucking useless peice of utter shit? Why did he have to —</p><p> </p><p>“<em> Fuck </em>!” He choked as Aziraphale’s hand stroked over the globe of his arse then grabbed a handful of flesh and squeezed. The ugly thoughts were immediately abandoned as Crowley blue-screened. Aziraphale curled in close by his side, still smiling pleasantly ahead while Thea made cappuccinos. The angel pitched his voice so low Crowley could barely hear it over the sound of his heart beating in his ears. </p><p> </p><p>“I do hope you aren’t being cruel to yourself again, dear,” the angel murmured. Crowley didn’t move an inch, and only managed an inarticulate noise of general denial. “Oh, I’m so glad to hear that. You just had this look of anguish on your face and I am, at present, unable to employ the methods I’d prefer to get you out of your head.” Aziraphale released his handful and Crowley started breathing again. The angel reached across Crowley’s body to take up the apple again. Thea looked up at them and smiled, inviting Aziraphale to take one of the cappuccinos. The angel graciously accepted. Thea began making another one and Aziraphale pivoted to look Crowley seriously in the eyes again before raising the apple to his mouth and taking a slow deliberate bite.</p><p> </p><p>Jesus Fucking Christ. What had the angel been reading?</p><p> </p><p>Crowley cleared his throat. Choked. Cleared it again. “Gimme that cup, Angel. You don’t mind taking the next one, yeah?” If he tried to walk right now he’d for sure come in his jeans and Crowley had a strict policy about doing that twice in a 24 hour period. Aziraphale handed the cup over with a knowing smile. Crowley turned away and sipped the caffeine, trying to concentrate on something else.</p><p> </p><p>“Uh...Oh! Thea has a traffic light power,” he said, latching onto the topic eagerly. Thea’s problems were definitely unsexy. That should work nicely. He heard Thea curse in pain, and figured she’d scalded herself. There was a little pensive hum from Aziraphale as the angel tried to puzzle out his meaning.  Right. He’d probably turned things scruffy enough that he could manage turning back around now. To be safe, Crowley only turned halfway, leaning his back against the counter to avoid looking at anyone. </p><p> </p><p>“It isn’t a power,” Thea grumbled. Crowley flicked a quick sideways peek toward them and relaxed when he saw that Aziraphale’s attention was now centred on the girl. Breathing space. He waited for Thea to start explaining what she had told him back in Waltham Forest then Crowley sucked a cooling breath through his teeth and propelled himself to the chair.</p><p> </p><p>Thea and Aziraphale joined him shortly after, with Thea dropping down sideways on the loveseat, her legs over the arm, crossed at the ankle. Aziraphale shot a questioning look at Crowley as he took a spot on the couch, clearly surprised the demon hadn’t chosen the couch to drape across as he usually preferred. An elegant sprawl was not in the cards right now. Crowley kept his knees together.</p><p> </p><p>“It sounds somewhat like a form of empathy, or perhaps prophecy,” Aziraphale mused after Thea had finished her explanation. “Certainly it seems focused on self-protection, but that might not be the whole of it,” he continued. The angel snapped his fingers and the legal pads with their notes appeared on his lap. Thea’s eyes widened again at the casual miracle, and Crowley heard her whisper “so cool” into her cup. “Have you had any other instances of precognition?” Aziraphale asked, shuffling through his notes. </p><p> </p><p>“Don’t think so,” Thea shrugged.</p><p> </p><p>“It could predate the accident,” the angel continued. “It would likely be more subtle. Messages in dreams, perhaps?”</p><p> </p><p>“Um...oh,” Thea’s brow creased as she frowned thoughtfully. Crowley watched her, could almost see the gears turning. She shook her head and sighed, frustrated. “I don’t know if this is anything. It would seem far fetched to mention it before all this,” she grumbled, waving a hand dismissively. “I used to do paintings for people that, well, it seemed like it meant something to them, in a way I never really fully understood.” </p><p> </p><p>Crowley tried to connect the dots around all that bloody hedging. </p><p> </p><p>“I’d be thinking of someone, and I’d paint something. I never really thought about the composition back then. It was usually abstract, and I’d know when it was finished, but when I delivered it, it would make this…” Thea’s cheeks flushed while she searched for a word. She was embarrassed. “...impact, emotionally, on the person I painted it for.”</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale took his pen out of his pocket and quietly made some notes. Thea stewed a moment. “It’s probably nothing,” she mumbled. </p><p> </p><p>“Might be something,” Crowley shrugged, trying to put the girl out of her misery since the angel had vanished into academic mode. She obviously wasn’t used to being taken seriously. “We’ve met scads of artists in our travels, and some can get into a right state when they're working. S' possible you tapped into something.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, I think it may be likely, in fact,” Aziraphale concurred, looking up finally. “Easy enough to test it, now that Crowley has made you such a splendid studio.”</p><p> </p><p>“You want me to paint something” Thea asked him, looking simultaneously excited and nervous.</p><p> </p><p>“For Crowley, yes,” Aziraphale nodded.</p><p> </p><p>Crowley glared. Why was he being dragged into this? Thea was looking at him now with another pensive little frown. She wasn’t too sure about this idea either.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m afraid it would be all too easy to guess at something I might enjoy,” Aziraphale explained kindly, “And as Crowley mentioned, I’m quite fond of your drawings as it is. However, I suspect it will be less simple to create an emotional reaction from a demon, especially one as unique as Crowley.”</p><p> </p><p>Thea was still watching Crowley, and he shifted uncomfortably under her scrutiny. He was pretty sure he didn’t want to be the subject of a potential empath, even a piss one, but the angel’s logic was flawless and he couldn’t think of a good argument against it. </p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p> </p><p>“It’s always hurry up and wait with you lately,” Crowley grumbled as they left Thea’s flat. Aziraphale gave the demon a curious look but he knew full well what he was complaining about. He probably shouldn’t have teased Crowley so in the kitchen, but he could see Crowley starting one of his spirals and Aziraphale knew all too keenly now how wretched those could feel. And the way Crowley had reacted had made the angel feel powerful and desired and <em> gracious; </em> that had felt so very good. </p><p> </p><p>Crowley pressed the call button on the lift, still complaining. “You were all in a bloody panic, a <em> real </em> panic, no less, over figuring out this mess and now you want her to take two days to paint a fucking picture?” Crowley slid into the lift and Aziraphale followed, feeling annoyed now. He’d missed the mark assuming Crowley was thinking about their conversation in the kitchen. </p><p> </p><p>“Surely you can see how we must approach this with care,” Aziraphale retorted. “Giving her a chance to acclimate to her new living space and meditate on her situation seems more than sensible to me. Especially given that her art may be a conduit for her latent celestial power. Given what she’s told us, I doubt she has painted much of anything since Gabriel and Beelzebub began their nasty tricks.”</p><p> </p><p>The door slid open on the eighth floor and Crowley stepped out. Aziraphale did as well, and felt a tiny thrill when Crowley tried to hide his sudden smile. That was as lovely an invitation as Aziraphale had seen. He let his hand bump along beside Crowley’s as they walked to his flat and he ached to lace their fingers together but felt a bit shy after being so forward before. </p><p> </p><p>“Besides,” he added, “the timing of all of this isn’t very opportune. You and I have some things to figure out.” </p><p> </p><p>Crowley opened his door and ushered Aziraphale inside the austere monochrome flat. The door closed and the lock slid home. Then the angel found himself being swung hard into the wall and pressed there firmly by a delicious set of demonic lips. </p><p> </p><p>“Have you any idea how recklessss it is to teassse a demon ssso?” Crowley hissed against Aziraphale’s neck. Aziraphale's reply was muffled by another kiss as long fingers swept and tangled in his curls. Crowley was hissing and growling against him, pushing and pulling with his hands as they slotted their mouths together hungrily. It was rough and frantic, and yet the demon was careful to keep his hips away from Aziraphale’s. The angel could feel Crowley’s need pouring off him and knew his friend was trying desperately to respect his boundaries, even when Aziraphale knew he was making a mess of communicating what those even were.</p><p> </p><p>That’s where his reading had come in very handy indeed. He felt much more grounded now. He knew exactly what he wanted. It started with being able to see Crowley's stunning eyes. He brushed his fingers up Crowley's cheek and gently pulled the glasses off. Crowley made an annoyed noise but when he made no move to stop Aziraphale it just made the angel feel bolder. He flipped the glasses closed and slipped them into his waistcoat pocket. Crowley's answering growl to that was definitely <em> not </em> annoyed.</p><p> </p><p>“Bedroom, dear?”</p><p> </p><p>“Fuck, yes.”</p><p> </p><p>It shouldn’t have surprised Aziraphale that Crowley’s bedroom was as immaculate and severe as the rest of the flat. A dark four poster bed with grey and black silk sheets. Dark, clean lines everywhere. The only spot of colour came from the leaves of a single white orchid on the dresser.  Crowley paused near the bed, suddenly uncertain, but Aziraphale felt no such trepidation. He carefully began to shed his layers, folding them and setting them aside.</p><p> </p><p>“I must confess that ever since Heaven...terminated my employ—” (he still hadn’t found a comfortable way of expressing that) "— I’ve felt somewhat adrift and bereft of a clear purpose. I suddenly have such little control over anything.”</p><p> </p><p>“Uhh…”</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale smiled as Crowley stared, but he would have liked the demon to start shedding clothing as well. </p><p> </p><p>“Control is a matter of great consequence for angels, you see,” he continued slowly unbuttoning his powder blue shirt. “We’re supposed to have iron wills, and yet truthfully, I’ve never been particularly good with delayed gratification. Still, the way you make me feel is exciting and frightening and something I have denied myself for so very long…” Aziraphale groaned despite himself, feeling at once another pang of his ancient loneliness. “Crowley, my dearest. I want so badly to succumb, but losing this last bit of control over myself is terrifying.”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley moved snake-bite quick and pulled Aziraphale into his arms. The angel gasped in surprise and then shuddered pleasantly as the demon’s clothed erection happily bumped against his own.</p><p> </p><p>“We don’t have to do anything, Angel,” Crowley assured him. “We can just go on as we have, if that’s what you want. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale blinked. Oh dear. That wasn’t what he was hoping for at all.</p><p> </p><p>“That’s kind of you to say, Crowley,” he whispered, sliding his hands down Crowley’s back to his hips. “It isn’t at all what I want, but it's kind all the same.”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley yelped when Aziraphale lifted him by his hips and tossed him onto the bed.</p><p> </p><p>“I want you, Crowley dear. I want you stretched out before me while I taste and touch every blessed inch of you. And when I have had my fill, I’d very much like to give that last bit of my control over to you.” Aziraphale’s voice was dark with desire, and the confession felt so good it ached. </p><p> </p><p>“Oh fuck, Angel,” Crowley groaned. “I want that too.”</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale snapped and vanished Crowley’s clothing with a careless miracle. Crowley’s eyes were wide with surprise. Aziraphale <em> did </em> say he wasn’t one for delayed gratification. He toed off his shoes and socks and crawled over to the demon, still wearing his trousers and vest. Crowley pulled him down for another kiss and Aziraphale gratefully melted in beside him. </p><p> </p><p>He ran his fingers through Crowley’s hair, feeling along his scalp to his ears, dancing his fingertips across high cheekbones and sharp jaw. Aziraphale had wanted to kiss the snake tattoo at Crowley’s temple for eons, so he did it now, following the kiss with a little lick, and another kiss. Crowley’s own fingers seemed to become limp as Aziraphale’s gathered strength, squeezing along the muscles of Crowley’s shoulders and arms, sliding flat palmed across his ribs (careful not to tickle this time). </p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale trailed his lips to Crowley’s ear, mimicking what Crowley had done the prior evening to cause the angel to buck and moan. He gently nibbled and suckled the lobe and blew cold air against the wet trail on the demon’s hot skin. Crowley sighed, open-mouthed and tugged at Aziraphale’s hair.</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale had been thoroughly enjoying a tender morsel where Crowley’s neck joined his shoulder and the demon’s moans started to turn into pleas but Aziraphale was only just getting started. He evaded Crowley’s grip and slid his hungry mouth over the lean chest, pressing kisses along the collar bone before making a meal of the pert rosey nipple before him. Crowley cursed, his hips jumping.</p><p> </p><p>“Fuck, Ah!” Crowley cried out again, “Damn it, Aziraphale, you’re going to discorporate me!”  </p><p> </p><p>That was sweet of him to say. Aziraphale catalogued this before shifting to see if he would get similar results from the other nipple. He did! Crowley’s skin was flushed and he could hear the demon panting, his chest rising and falling under the angel’s lips and tongue. It was excellent, but it was time to move on. When Crowley tried again to grasp the angel’s head Aziraphale captured his hand instead, bringing it around so he could kiss and nibble the long slender fingers. </p><p> </p><p>“Crowley, your hands are exquisite,” he sighed. “Have you played piano, I wonder? These long fingers almost seem made for it.” He slipped the index finger into his mouth and sucked hard and Crowley’s cries turned into cursing.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re doing this on purpose!” he whimpered.</p><p> </p><p>“Of course I am,” Aziraphale replied around the digit before taking the middle finger into his mouth as well. </p><p> </p><p>“Oh my Go— Fuck, damn it, Sa— shit! You’re being a bastard!”</p><p> </p><p>“I thought you <em> liked </em> it when I’m a bastard,” Aziraphale grinned, freeing Crowley’s fingers and pressing kisses to the inside of his wrist all the way to his elbow.  “One of the criteria that made me worth knowing, as I recall.”</p><p> </p><p>“I take it back,” Crowley hissed, then reached for his cock with his other hand. Aziraphale glared at that. He hadn’t gotten there yet and Crowley was stealing his dessert. The angel snapped his fingers without properly thinking about it and Crowley’s arms were flung out to the side and held down by a large pair of heavy white wings. </p><p> </p><p>Crowley's eyes were wide with surprise before he gave the angel a lascivious grin. "My my. Methinks the angel has a kink or two."</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale was beginning to think his 'kinks' may, in fact, contain multitudes so long as this maddening demon was involved.</p><p> </p><p>"If you'd be so kind as to stay still, dear, I <em> was </em> in the middle of something here".</p><p> </p><p>"Terribly sorry, dear Chap," Crowley mimicked Aziraphale's accent. "Please, do continue about your business. Don't mind me."</p><p> </p><p>"Cheek," Aziraphale grumbled, sliding his hand down between the demon's legs. "I can't believe you are making fun of me right now."</p><p> </p><p>"Oh, don't pout, Angel." Crowley's mocking tone broke a little when the angel's fingers wrapped around his erection. "'m a demon. Sass is basically my love language." Crowley blushed furiously in the next second as if just realizing what he'd said. </p><p> </p><p>"Hmm, I'll try to remember that." Aziraphale smiled, giving the demon a gentle squeeze.</p><p> </p><p>"Please don't," Crowley groaned.</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale had to bend quite a bit forward and slide over to straddle Crowley’s legs in order to keep the demon pinned, but that had its own advantages and now that Crowley had drawn attention to the long hard cock in front of him it was all Aziraphale wanted.</p><p> </p><p>He tentatively kissed the tip, licking at the bead of fluid there and savoured the flavour across his lips. Salt, but also something sweet and vital. What was that? He licked again from the base to the tip, using as much of his tongue to gather the flavour as possible. Hmm. It reminded him of something. He closed his mouth over the swollen head and sucked lightly, closing his eyes to concentrate. He stroked with his tongue and brought his hands down to help massage and coax more fluid into his greedy mouth. It was almost like dark-red fruit. Plums or pomegranate. And there was a pleasant musk with the salt as well, and the combination reminded him of the Mediterranean. Crowley’s hips bucked against the angel’s grip, sliding further into his mouth. Aziraphale liked that. Encouraged it. Swallowed the flavours and made Crowley shout.</p><p> </p><p>“Shit! Angel! Ah! I’m close, I’m—”</p><p> </p><p>He felt the vein along the shaft pulse, and felt Crowley struggle against his wings almost getting free. Aziraphale glanced up the length of Crowley's body, lifting his wings slightly to free the demon but Crowley dug his fingers into the feathers and pulled them back down to pin him again. The angel growled around his mouthful, the sensation of Crowley's fingers in his feathers more intense than he expected, and shoved the demon’s arms back down into the mattress. Crowley bucked and shouted and started to come apart.</p><p> </p><p>“Angel! I’m— Ah! Fucking Christ I’m—”</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale’s mouth was flooded with the Mediterranean, shooting down his throat and spilling from the corner of his mouth to dribble down his chin. Aziraphale took it all greedily. He kept sucking until he registered Crowley’s cries changed from pleasure to discomfort.</p><p> </p><p>“-- too sensitive, Zira, please.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh. My apologies, darling,” Aziraphale winced in sympathy. He’d have to remember the bit about over sensitivity. He vanished his wings to free Crowley’s arms and took in the sight of a thoroughly demolished demon. His golden eyes were glazed and his open mouth was pleasantly smiling despite the panting. </p><p> </p><p>“Thanks, Angel,” he gasped. “That’s going to need a minute.”</p><p> </p><p>“Quite all right, my dear. I have plenty more to feast on,” Aziraphale replied happily, licking his lips before setting his head back down.</p><p> </p><p>“You’ve got wot?” Crowley started and then Aziraphale felt him shudder and heard a throaty purr as he licked a long slow trail from Crowley’s knee up his inner thigh and then began to thoroughly explore the demon’s soft bollocks. When the position became awkward, Aziraphale took Crowley’s ankles and slid them up, spreading Crowley’s knees. </p><p> </p><p>A pillow miracled under the demon’s hips made access much easier. He heard Crowley swear again, saw him cover his face with his hands. </p><p> </p><p>Was that good or bad? Aziraphale wasn't sure so he asked. </p><p> </p><p>"Good! Definitely all good here, Angel!" Crowley squawked through his fingers. He squirmed as the angel swept his tongue over the pucker of his hole and the swearing turned into breathy encouragement. Ooh yes, Aziraphale was learning so much this afternoon. </p><p> </p><p>He pulsed his tongue against the ring of muscle several times before he shifted to gently rub a knuckle against it.</p><p> </p><p>“Darling, I hope you don’t find this too forward, but I was wondering if you might happen to have some—”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley snapped his fingers and a small tube of lubricant dropped beside Aziraphale’s head. He smiled and snapped the cap open. <em> Sour apple flavoured, really? </em>Aziraphale coated his fingers quickly and pressed a sucking kiss against Crowley’s hip.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not very well versed in this, I’m afraid, so —” Aziraphale began.</p><p> </p><p>“Could have fooled me,” Crowley groaned.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, you’re sweet! What I meant was I hope you’ll tell me if I do something wrong.” Aziraphale gently pressed his finger in slowly, working it back and forth, a fraction of an inch at a time. It was tight and hot, and he was worried he might not have enough lubricant. Crowley hissed and Aziraphale paused, concerned. “Is this all right, my dear?”</p><p> </p><p>“Aziraphale, you’re killing me here,” Crowley grunted, his face still in his hands.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, sorry, should I —”</p><p> </p><p>“Stop fucking teasing and get on with it!” Crowley growled. His hips bucked and slid up onto his finger and Aziraphale shrugged and eased the digit in as deep as it would go. Crowley howled and his muscles clamped down so hard the angel’s knuckle’s ground slightly. Aziraphale gasped at the sensation and it was the first time he felt at risk of losing his composure.  He had been so focused on his exploration so far that he’d mostly been able to ignore his own arousal. </p><p> </p><p>He withdrew his finger halfway before sending it back in. He felt the heaviness between his own legs and snapped with his free hand to vanish the rest of his clothing. The cool air against his erection reminded him of Crowley’s and he was delighted to see that the demon was hard and dripping again. </p><p> </p><p>“Oh! It’s ready!” Aziraphale exclaimed, delighted, before licking up the shaft again. Crowley gasped and relaxed and the angel was able to ease a second finger inside.</p><p> </p><p>“...like the timer went off for your <em>fucking</em> <em>cake!</em>” Crowley complained. Aziraphale ignored him and happily suckled away as he stretched the demon out, taking his time before adding a third finger. He kept his suction light and slow, hoping to draw this out as long as possible. He was contemplating adding a fourth finger when he heard Crowley yell a particularly vulgar expletive.</p><p> </p><p>“Crowley?” He asked, concerned. He withdrew his fingers and the demon wailed.</p><p> </p><p>“Please Please Please, Angel <em> Please </em>,”</p><p> </p><p>Oh dear. He had never heard Crowley beg before. He wasn't entirely sure how he felt about it. It was very... compelling.</p><p> </p><p>“Damn it Zira. I need it, Fuck me <em>please</em>.”</p><p> </p><p>There it was. The limit of Aziraphale’s control. </p><p> </p><p>“Yes, Crowley. I want to. I <em> will </em>. Only I’ve never—” the air went out of Aziraphale’s lungs when Crowley’s wings burst out in an ebony spill across the bed. The demon flapped twice to propel himself upright, and used the sudden burst of strength to topple Aziraphale over onto his back. Their positions properly reversed, Crowley grabbed Aziraphale’s wrists and pinned them overhead. Topaz eyes burned down at him, wide and feral and his nails bit into the soft flesh of the angel’s wrists. Crowley was still. The stillness was such a stark contrast to the flurry of movement mere seconds ago and Aziraphale wasn't sure what to expect next. </p><p> </p><p>Crowley waited, shifting his weight and loosening his grip on Aziraphale's wrists without releasing them. The angel was reminded of when he lifted his wings for Crowley. Aziraphale met his gaze, swallowed, then nodded. He was content with this reversal. Crowley's smile was slow and devious. Aziraphale would deny loving that smile and how it made his heart pound.</p><p> </p><p>“Had your fill?” he hissed. “Ready to surrender that control to me like you promissssed?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, Crowley,” Aziraphale whispered. “I’m ready to submit, dear.”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley chuckled wickedly. “Oh my sweet lovely Angel,” he murmured. “I am going to <em>take</em> <em>you</em> <em>apart</em>.”</p><p> </p><p>“You said you’d be gentle—” Aziraphale squeaked as Crowley moved, but that soon cut off with a garbled “<em> Oh goodness gracious God almighty </em>,” as the demon ever so slowly eased himself down over Aziraphale’s erection. The angel was fully seated inside and it was tight and hot and slick and everything he had been wanting for 6,000 years. </p><p> </p><p>Crowley’s head lolled on his shoulders, and he was breathing rapidly. Aziraphale worried for a moment that he was in pain, but when Crowley opened his eyes his smile looked happy and a little drunk. Aziraphale probably looked the same. He was beginning to think nothing would ever feel as amazingly perfect as this and then Crowley started to <em> move </em>.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh my— oh Heavens, Crowley that is—-” Aziraphale let his head fall back against the bed as Crowley took full control, riding him slowly at first, guiding the angel’s hips to meet him thrust for thrust. </p><p> </p><p>‘Crowley darling, that’s marvelous, truly, I had no idea this was— Ah!”</p><p> </p><p>“Too articulate,” Crowley laughed as he sped up. Aziraphale moaned and gasped and he felt his eyes roll back as the demon began to ride him hard. He grabbed Crowley’s hips but the demon yanked his hands back above his head and used the position for greater leverage. Crowley glistened with sweat as he worked the angel. His hips rose and fell and undulated and shone. </p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale bucked against him in pleasure and the demon cried out sharply, releasing the angel's wrists, and then shouted Aziraphale’s name as he coated the angel’s stomach in strips of white. The soft wet pressure around the angel’s cock spasmed and squeezed and suddenly Aziraphale felt like he was balanced precariously over a yawning chasm of sensation and he wanted to recoil from it as badly as he wanted to tumble forward.</p><p> </p><p>“Crowley!” he yelled, desperate. He dug his nails into the silk sheets, lost, needing something to hold. He sucked in a breath through his open mouth, back arching almost to the point of pain, fraught with indecision.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m here, Angel,” Crowley cooed, panting hard but stroking Aziraphale’s face with such tenderness. “I’ve got you, Aziraphale. I’m here.”</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale closed his eyes and let himself tumble into the chasm. His vision whited out and he screamed, pleasure washing over him in a wave. He sank under, drifted, surfaced gasping. Crowley held him tightly and a moment later Aziraphale shook with an aftershock of love love love.</p><p> </p><p>"Crowley," he gasped, slowly coming back to himself.</p><p> </p><p>"I'm here, Angel,” Crowley whispered into his hair. Aziraphale had never been a fan of sleep but his eyes felt heavy as he leaned into Crowley's voice.</p><p> </p><p> "I'll always be here."</p><p>
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  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I'm considering doing a separate E rated 'Carpe Demon' series where Aziraphale and Crowley hunt each other in various scenarios and locations. If you have any suggestions you'd like to see a hunt happen, please let me know!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. The Storm</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Aziraphale and Crowley decide to try another round of Carpe Demon while Thea settles into her art and explores the neighbourhood. The fun and games is put on hold when a strange storm blows over London, and suddenly the three of them are in a whole new kind of danger.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>My eternal gratitude to my beta readers pinkpenguinparade and raechem for helping me edit some monster chapters. </p><p>The plot is starting to move and things are going to get a bit dark for a couple chapters. Chapters 6 and 7 are probably going to be released simultaneously sometime next week.</p><p>Thank you for reading.</p><p>P.S. I know snakes don't have eyelids, but I also think that if a particular snake *wanted* eyelids then he would have them.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
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    <span>"No thank you" is what I should've said</span>
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  <em>
    <span>I should be in bed</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>But temptations of trouble on my tongue</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Troubles yet to come</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>One sip, bad for me</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>One hit, bad for me</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>One kiss, bad for me</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>But I give in so easily</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And "no thank you" is how it should've gone</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I should stay strong</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span class="u">
      <span>Weak</span>
    </span>
    <span> - AJR</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>If there was one thing Crowley hated it was the scent of brimstone. Fungus gnats were a close second, but the smell of brimstone was definitely something he despised with his entire spiteful being. So he wasn’t particularly happy to be standing on a ledge overlooking a hazy expanse of blinding hellfire and bubbling pools of spitting sulfur. Brimstone filled his nose, coated his tongue, clung to his throat. His eyes burned, pricking tears he’d be an idiot to let fall in a place like this. A foul wind whipped his hair from his face, carrying with it another strong whiff of rotting flesh, blood and bone, and cedar.</p><p> </p><p><em> No wait, that isn't right. Cedar doesn’t grow in Hell. </em> </p><p> </p><p>Crowley removed his glasses and scrubbed his arm across his eyes. Darkness was rushing in across the field of flame, beating down all that red and orange with a cool breeze. The smell of putrefaction ebbed, replaced with the earthy scent of earth, dry grass, meadow flowers. The brimstone died in a curl of woodsmoke. The hellfire crackled and popped happily in a little campfire. Crowley reached down beside him and felt his hand curl into a plastic bag of marshmallows. He lifted it to his nose, breathing in the too-sweet vanilla. He lifted his gaze and kind blue eyes smiled at him, crinkling at the edges with laughter. He opened his mouth and took the offered roasted marshmallow, letting it coat his tongue in melted softness, and the hint of char was pleasant and tasted of sweet promise. The darkness shone with trillions of stars. “Crowley.”</p><p> </p><p>“Mmm?”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m getting a bit peckish, dear. Do you have any—”</p><p> </p><p>“Plenty of marshmallows left, Angel.”</p><p> </p><p>A pause. A gentle breath of laughter. “Crowley, dear, please wake up before you speak to me.”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley squeezed his eyes shut, chasing sleep, but it was no use. <em> Fucking angel </em>.</p><p> </p><p>“Damn it, Aziraphale,” he growled. “That was a good dream. Why did you have to—” he trailed off when he realized he was being held. He cracked open one eye, and then another. He was lying in his bed, with strong angel arms wrapped around him and, if he wasn’t mistaken, a bit of angelic morning wood resting against his hip. “Nevermind, this is better.”</p><p> </p><p>He heard Aziraphale’s soft chuckle, and felt a kiss land on his shoulder. He rolled over to face the angel, happily surprised he was still here. </p><p> </p><p>“It would be a bit horrid of me to leave while you slept, dear. Not to mention, rude,” Aziraphale smiled, and Crowley winced, realizing he’d been thinking out loud again. “Is it all right that I stayed?” Aziraphale suddenly looked worried. “Perhaps I was being presumptuous. I confess I fell asleep and when I woke up, <em> you </em> were asleep and I didn’t want to wake you so—”</p><p> </p><p>“Angel, S’fine!” Crowley assured him before the angel could work up too much of a fuss. “It’s good, actually. Really. S’great even.”</p><p> </p><p>“Is it?” Aziraphale looked so relieved. <em> How is he so cute? </em> “I’m so glad. You had me worried for a moment.”</p><p> </p><p>“Been ages since I’ve seen you first thing in the morning,” Crowley grinned. “Never had you in bed with me before though. Naked no less. And pokey.”</p><p> </p><p>“Er. Yes, well. Sorry about that part,” Aziraphale blushed. “Seems to have a mind of its own, really.”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley relaxed his head back onto the pillow and watched with a silent smile as Aziraphale continued to apologize about morning wood for longer than seemed probable. Finally the anxiety in the angel’s blue eyes gave way to annoyance.</p><p> </p><p>“Are you really not going to say anything?” </p><p> </p><p>Ah, the angel had finally reached the part of his fussing where he gave up his hand-wringing in favour of being pissy. This was usually where Crowley would really start needling him, but Crowley was feeling as content as he could ever remember feeling and his body was deliciously sore. No reason to sabotage it yet. He’d no doubt get to doing that soon enough.</p><p> </p><p>“I like it,” he said, cutting Aziraphale off mid-complaint. “Downright thrilled to have you poke me any time you like,” he smirked. Aziraphale blushed crimson. Crowley leaned forward and kissed him, a soft press of lips. He felt the angel shiver and cuddle closer.</p><p> </p><p>“You know,” Crowley murmured against plush lips. “It has been so long since I’ve woken up with someone, I think part of me worried I was still dreaming you until just now. I was alone for so long, I figured I always would be.” <em> The fuck did you just say? Shut up Shut up Shut up! </em> He closed his eyes, suddenly wishing for his glasses again. </p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale took his hand and kissed his knuckles softly, his blue eyes a little wet. “I understand what you mean. The loneliness was an ever present ache. I felt it too.”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley’s eyes popped open at that. “Wot? Why would <em> you </em> be alone?”</p><p> </p><p>“Well,” Aziraphale’s brow creased in confusion. “For the same reasons as you, I’d assume,”</p><p> </p><p>“Because deep down you were a danger to everyone and everything around you and forming attachments would undoubtedly end in you going feral and eating someone’s face?” Crowley knew he should let it go, but his contentment was burning away and <em> damn him </em> but he just couldn’t let the angel equate their loneliness! Crowley was a demon! His isolation was part of his eternal punishment, right? <em> Right? </em> To his immense surprise, Aziraphale answered his cattiness with a slight laugh.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not sure I identify with the face eating part, but the rest of it, absolutely.” Crowley snorted, incredulous. Aziraphale’s expression was downright fond. “Crowley, did you think I was likely to be surrounded with fawning companions, simply because I’m an angel?”</p><p> </p><p>“Because you’re <em> you </em>, more likely,” Crowley grumbled. “But yeah, I mean, angels are supposed to be beings of ‘great holy love’ or whatever. I figured the humans would eat that right up."</p><p> </p><p>“They tend to find our presence quite disquieting for the most part, I assure you” Aziraphale sighed, lightly running his fingertips over Crowley’s. “Did you really eat someone’s face?”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, not in a <em> very </em> long time.”</p><p> </p><p>“You realize I can’t tell if you are joking?”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m aware, yes.”</p><p> </p><p>“You’re a fiend!” Aziraphale pretended to pout. “Certainly a test to my ability for 'great holy love' at times. It is a wonder I’ve managed it for so long.”</p><p> </p><p>“Managed what?” Crowley yawned. His mind was starting to wander, thinking about coffee.</p><p> </p><p>“To <em> love </em>you, of course,” Aziraphale said, looking at him as though he were daft. Crowley bolted upright in shock. He immediately hissed a denial at the stupid angel. He had no idea what he was saying. Crowley snapped, summoning a pair of glasses, and rolled out of bed. He needed that coffee now. And some distance from this lunatic.</p><p> </p><p>“I think I should know, my dear,” Aziraphale argued, annoyed. “I’m pretty certain I’ve loved you since <em> the Beginning </em>, in a friendly sort of way.”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley had snapped on a fresh pair of clothes while the angel spoke and now paused, blushing and feeling silly. “Right. <em> Friends </em>, still—”</p><p> </p><p>“But ever since the Bastille, it has been much less platonic, if I’m being perfectly honest,” Aziraphale sighed and Crowley rounded on him, frustrated.</p><p> </p><p>“Are you <em> insane </em>?!”</p><p> </p><p>"What’s the matter?” Aziraphale huffed. He looked hurt. Crowley took a step toward him, wanting to reach out but stopped himself. He felt like he was burning up. He didn’t trust himself to touch the angel when he felt like this.</p><p> </p><p>“You <em> can’t </em> love a <em> demon </em>, Angel,” Crowley hissed, furious.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m fairly certain I <em> can </em>, Crowley,” Aziraphale was fully snippy now. This was a fight. They were fighting.</p><p> </p><p>A small part of Crowley was screaming at him to stop arguing about this, but that wasn’t the part that had control of his mouth. It was too soon to be discussing this. Crowley wasn’t prepared. It couldn’t be true. Demon’s weren’t made for love. If the angel loved him then...well, he <em> couldn’t </em> , could he? Crowley was unlovable. Unsafe. Unwanted. Unforgivable. “You’re not <em> supposed </em> to love demons then!” </p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale rolled his eyes. “I’m not <em> supposed </em> to suck a demon’s effort into my mouth until their eyes roll back in their head either, and yet we soldier on.”</p><p> </p><p>“Guh”, Crowley said, losing his train of thought entirely.</p><p> </p><p>“Now then. Kindly stop being ridiculous so we can plan our day,” the angel scolded. “As I said before, I’m getting a bit hungry. We should go for some breakfast." The angel's face brightened at the thought of food and Crowley mentally flailed to keep hold of his ire as it retreated from that beautiful smile. "Crepes! The Bastille reminded me and now I have a craving."</p><p> </p><p>Crowley plopped down on the side of the bed picking at some imaginary lint on his sleeve and grumbling "I'm not ridiculous. You're ridiculous."</p><p> </p><p>"It is quite all right that you aren't ready to say it back to me, dear," Aziraphale smiled fondly. "I could happily go on for quite a while remembering you saying you'll always be here for me."</p><p> </p><p>Crowley bristled. What the absolute fuck? "I didn't!"</p><p> </p><p>"You did," Aziraphale laughed. "It was very romantic. It was exactly what I needed after coming down from that exquisite high." The angel wiggled happily. Crowley rolled his eyes.</p><p> </p><p>"You mean after you finished coming so hard you knocked out the power for three city blocks?"</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale looked horrified and the subject was successfully changed.</p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale straightened his bowtie in Crowley's mirror but, truthfully, he was using the reflection to watch the demon surreptitiously. Crowley's behaviour wasn't surprising, he had always been a bit of an emotional hermit crab, taking a small risk and then immediately retreating into a shell of sarcasm and spite. It wasn't a surprise, but it stung a bit all the same.</p><p> </p><p>And he didn't believe he'd knocked out the power, at all. Crowley was flattering himself, clearly.</p><p> </p><p>Crowley stopped fiddling with his phone and stretched, not knowing he was being watched. His long fingers kneaded a sore spot on his arse and the demon hissed quietly, but his lips smiled. Aziraphale's pulse sped a tick. </p><p> </p><p>"I think we should play another game, dear," Aziraphale blurted. Crowley looked at him, baffled but intrigued. Aziraphale turned around to face him finally. "Carpe Demon?" he flirted.</p><p> </p><p>"Ooh," Crowley grinned. "Definitely. Same rules?"</p><p> </p><p>"Not exactly the same, no," Aziraphale said, crossing over to the demon and pressing a kiss to his lips. "For one thing, we will need a tighter time limit. I would like to have you in hand by tonight."</p><p> </p><p>Crowley swallowed when he said '<em> in hand </em>' showing he understood it for the double entendre it was. He nodded, and Aziraphale smiled as he continued. "As such, I think it only fair to restrict the zone in which you are to hide."</p><p> </p><p>"Definitely, Angel. I don't need a lot of territory to hide from <em> you </em>," Crowley smirked, all smarm and over-confidence and exactly where Aziraphale wanted him. "Name the parameters and I'll still give you a good chase." Aziraphale doubted that very much but kept his smile innocently serene. </p><p> </p><p>"The bookshop isn't an ideal ending point anymore, I'm afraid. Could we use...your bed perhaps?" </p><p> </p><p>"Naughty angel," Crowley purred. “Only if you make sure I'm properly immobilized."</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale blushed again, not expecting that.</p><p> </p><p>"We should take care with that, dear," he warned. "I admit the thought of overpowering you is shockingly arousing but I would never forgive myself if I caused you harm and I'm not experienced enough to know your limit or mine."</p><p> </p><p>"Safeword then," Crowley shrugged. "Green for safe, amber for slow down, red for stop?"</p><p> </p><p>"Red won't work for me, dear," Aziraphale shook his head. "I adore your fiery hair so much I'm bound to say something about it.” Aziraphale offered the word 'Mongoose' instead and Crowley agreed, laughing, before realizing the joke and pretending to be offended.</p><p> </p><p>"Mongoose is fine, you terror," Crowley huffed, hiding a smirk. "Doubt I'll be saying it much," he added, making Aziraphale blush again. "Let's quit wasting time. I need to find some suitable hiding spots."</p><p> </p><p>"Oh, that shouldn't take too long, my dear, as you won't be leaving the flat."</p><p> </p><p>Crowley stared at him with utter incomprehension so Aziraphale clarified. "You're confined to your flat for the game, Crowley. Hide wisely. I'll be back in two hours."</p><p> </p><p>Crowley scowled and started to argue but Aziraphale had already snapped himself to the 7th floor corridor. Thea answered his knock wearing a smock already smudged with cream coloured paint. Her hair was tied back and she had a loaded brush tucked behind her ear. The flat smelled of paint, strawberries and something floral. Music was playing loudly over some hidden speakers. Aziraphale turned the volume down with a slight wave. </p><p> </p><p>"I'm sorry to interrupt. Have you eaten yet, my dear?"</p><p> </p><p>"Yep," she said, gesturing to the kitchen where a white bakery box sat next to a bowl of strawberries. Aziraphale frowned.</p><p> </p><p>"Oh, you went out?" he asked. Thea had already gone back to her painting letting him poke around. "Was everything all right?"He was nervous about her being out alone, but keeping her locked up here seemed a tad extreme as well. </p><p> </p><p>"Yeah, it was good," she replied from behind a large canvas. "I found a nice bakery and a little grocer that sold violet syrup. Perfect for the strawberries I found in the fridge. Did you want some?"</p><p> </p><p>Oh. It was violets he was smelling. He picked up her empty bowl and gave it a sniff, his mouth watering immediately. The combination smelled wonderful. He lifted the lid to the bakery box revealing three fresh croissants. His stomach rumbled.</p><p> </p><p>"Do angels even eat?" Thea asked.</p><p> </p><p>"This one does, and would be grateful for some breakfast, thank you."</p><p> </p><p>"You and Crowley are all that stands between me and a gooey death so by all means, help yourself," Thea murmured, absorbed in her work. He set her kettle to boil and took up a croissant before coming around the easel to peek. Swirls of whites and creams came together in the top third of the canvas in billowing layers.</p><p> </p><p>"It isn't much right now," she apologized. “I didn't get much done yesterday. The light wasn't right and the power went out as soon as I got the lamps set up.”</p><p> </p><p>Heat bloomed in Aziraphale's cheeks and the croissant was suddenly dry in his mouth at the mention of the power failure.</p><p> </p><p>"The morning light is perfect," she continued, casting a glance at the windows. "Sun's starting to move though so I might take a break soon and start again with the lamps later. I need to see Lynn today and explain why I won't be coming back to work," her eyes looked troubled then. "You’re sure I can’t keep going?”</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale nodded. It was for the best. “It will be too difficult to work our studies around your shifts. We may only have three months to sort this out, and even if we get six— ” Aziraphale sighed, looking back out the window. “It is still precious little time, I’m afraid.”</p><p> </p><p>Thea nodded and looked back at the canvas. “I don't know what I'll say."</p><p> </p><p>"I'm sorry you're unable to continue your employment," Aziraphale said earnestly. Thea shrugged. "I'd like to give you the number for the bookshop again and Crowley's numbers as well. You ought to put them in your mobile." </p><p> </p><p>Thea shrugged again, putting down her brush and pulling her phone out of her back pocket, unlocking it and handing it to Aziraphale. He flushed again and declined. He never knew how to navigate the blasted things. He took out another of his business cards and wrote Crowley's mobile and landline numbers on the back. Thea shrugged a third time, tucking her phone away and returning to her painting. Aziraphale watched her carefully. She seemed barely aware of him, her eyes moving with her brush across the canvas. Aziraphale left her to it, made his tea and enjoyed some strawberries with the violet syrup. After he washed up, he poured some tea and took a seat at one of the desk chairs in her studio to watch her paint. </p><p> </p><p>He had seen many artists work over the years and they all had their own ways of working. Thea danced. The music moved her as she moved her brush. It was clear that she was happy in her work, but he could see how focused she was as well. He waited until he was sure she was well absorbed in her craft before he let his sight drift into the metaphysical spectrum. He watched her aura flare with golds and greens. He could see the burning silver scar of Gabriel's tampering flaring out across the right side of her chest, and the festering black wound of Beelzebub's across her left hip. </p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale wanted to turn away at the sight of the mutilation but he forced himself to maintain the inspection, searching for a sign of holy empathy. The song changed to something more up-tempo and Thea's dance became faster. She moved her back to him and he saw it. Two faint lines of green and gold lifting from her shoulder blades and reaching up to the ceiling. Now that he had spotted them he could follow them up past the ceiling and into the flat above. Crowley's flat. He felt where the gold and green touched the blue-black of a serpent's scales. He smiled. Crowley must be in snake form, searching for a place to hide. And Thea was most certainly an empath. Aziraphale was very much looking forward to seeing her painting for Crowley when it was finished.</p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p> </p><p>Thea didn't notice when Aziraphale left. She didn't think she had been painting that long but her clock said an hour and a half. She needed to let this layer dry before she went back to it so she collected her brushes, sealed her palette and cleaned up. Aziraphale's card was on the counter so she added the bookshop and Crowley's landline to her contacts. She already had Crowley's cell number. He had texted her shortly before Aziraphale showed up, instructing her to tell the angel there was a power failure last night. </p><p> </p><p>She hadn't questioned it. Let the supernatural creatures have their inside jokes. She wished she were in the mood for pranks. She usually was. She felt subdued today, quiet. It wasn’t a good way to be lately. Her brain had a habit of turning on her if she stayed still too long.</p><p> </p><p>It was too tempting to poke at the drying painting so she grabbed her satchel and sketchbook and headed out to explore again. The weather was sunny and mild and it was starting to feel like spring. It would be good to soak up as much sunlight as she could. Chase away the shadows.</p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p> </p><p>Crowley was staring at the clock. Two hours, the angel said. That was <em> three </em> hours ago. Crowley had been deeply frustrated by Aziraphale limiting his hiding area to the flat itself. Hardly sporting, the bastard. Crowley had been in a state trying to figure out where to hide, how to misdirect the angel to buy more time, and how to escape if he needed. The first two he had mostly sorted out. The third was still in the air. Where the fuck was Aziraphale? Did he forget? How long did it take to go out for nibbles?</p><p> </p><p>The Angel was bound to check in on Thea (she had her instructions), and after that he had likely gone back to the shop and found a book and <em>shit</em> <em>fuck</em> <em>he</em> <em>probably</em> <em>forgot</em>. </p><p> </p><p>Here Crowley was, having done all this preparation, clean silk sheets, cupboards and closets left ajar, (red herrings), light bulbs removed, and about seventy more plants miracled around the flat. He had placed a large black jacuzzi tub in the plant room, surrounded by stonework and humidity loving plants. The jets were on, breaking the surface in nice distracting ripples. Crowley liked the result. He might keep it. </p><p> </p><p>He had done all this and Aziraphale was probably sitting with a book and a cup of tea while Crowley slowly died from horniness. He'd call the angel to yell at him but his phone was in another room. And he didn't have any hands.</p><p> </p><p>He heard the door open and flicked his tongue, tasting the angel's scent. His heart did a somersault and he slipped into the jacuzzi without a sound.</p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale entered the darkened flat and scoffed when flicking the switch didn't work. As if darkness was going to be a deterrent to an angel. He rolled his eyes and headed for the study, his arms full of books on angelic hierarchy, demonic lore, various occult/ethereal matters. Anything that might help his or Thea's studies. He intended to make sure she had a proper education about angels and demons. He set the books down on Crowley's desk and then snapped, summoning a floating ball of light above him. He started his search here. </p><p> </p><p>Even if he hadn't noticed Thea's aura reaching <em> scales </em>it was logical to assume Crowley was currently a snake. The flat was sparsely decorated and there weren't many places for a lanky demon to hide. Aziraphale planned to have Crowley under him and in his mouth within the hour.</p><p> </p><p>He checked the desk drawers carefully, knocking to check for false bottoms. He knew Crowley could change his size in snake form, but wasn't sure how small he could make himself. Best to check the dark corners and be thorough. </p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p>Thea had several instances of appreciation for Crowley's dark glasses, while she explored Soho.  It felt like everyone she encountered did a double take, or avoided looking at her orange eye so hard they might as well have been staring. She regretted ditching her contacts. Maybe she should order more? The thought of using Crowley's credit card to buy the one thing he told her not too made her pause. Although, he was a demon, so maybe it was expected? That reasoning didn't sit well with Thea. It felt like an excuse only Crowley could make. </p><p> </p><p>He obviously was capable of feelings, if the fond little smiles he kept giving Aziraphale were any indication. Best not to buy contacts. He was fun to rile up (so, <em> so </em>fun! Why was she so recklessly stupid?) but she recognized a deep injury in him. If she ever went too far he would turn on her and she would never be able to make it okay again. She wouldn't want that even if she didn't need his help. </p><p> </p><p>So she would endure the staring and try to get a thicker skin. It hurt though, just like it did when she first recovered. The discomfort she invoked in people made her feel othered and alone. She had always liked people. She loved hearing stories and being inspired by the little personal histories of real people. Tiny details were food for her soul. Anna was the same. She was the greatest optimist Thea had ever known and everything was an adventure or a blessing to Anna. </p><p> </p><p><em>I</em> <em>need</em> <em>you</em>, <em>baby</em>, she prayed. <em>I'm starting to feel real heavy, love.</em></p><p> </p><p>There was a very good chance that everything was going to go to shit soon. She had no idea what she was doing and suspected Crowley and Aziraphale didn't either. She could go for a shot of optimism right now. Or at least some reassurance that she'd get to see Anna again when this was over. For the first time since Thea could remember she was genuinely worried about where she would end up after the end.</p><p> </p><p>"Thea?"</p><p> </p><p>“Lynn?” Thea looked up. She was in Salt &amp; Smoke,standing just inside the door. A couple diners were eyeing her askance. Lynn came around the counter, gently took her hand and led her to her office. Thea hadn’t been in here much since the day she was hired. It was a comfortable little space, with odd little knick knacks and a collection of different coloured salt in miniature decorative jars. </p><p> </p><p>"What can I do to help?" Lynn asked, after pushing Thea into a seat by her messy desk. Thea shook her head, unsure where to start. </p><p> </p><p>"I'm sorry," Thea started, overwhelmed. "I… I'm sorry, I can't work my shifts for a while."</p><p> </p><p>"Do you have to go back to Canada, luv?"</p><p> </p><p>Shit, she hadn't even thought about that. She probably wasn't going to be allowed to stay in the UK much longer. Seemed like a problem for the super-powerful immortals though. </p><p> </p><p>"No. I'm sorry, I don't know how to explain. You've been really nice to me and I'm so grateful but —"</p><p> </p><p>"I'll find someone to cover your shifts," Lynn sighed. Thea felt terrible. This really was a good place to work. Good bosses were so fucking rare. </p><p> </p><p>"I'm sorry," Thea apologized again.</p><p> </p><p>"I know," Lynn smiled, patting her hand. "You'll be all right, Thea. You'll find your way."</p><p> </p><p>She wanted to cry. Lynn was being so kind but she had no idea what Thea was up against. She forced herself to smile, then left the bistro before Lynn could see her tears. She was a block away before she realized Lynn had never seemed taken aback by her orange eye. </p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p>Aziraphale didn't know whether to be impressed or annoyed, so he managed a mixture of both as he searched the flat. His excitement was playing tricks on him, lengthening shadows, making him hear the rasp of scales every time the heat clicked on. He worried at his lip with his teeth as he left the kitchen, frustrated and hard. The fruit bowl full of light bulbs had made him laugh, but the mirth only made him want Crowley more. </p><p> </p><p>He must be in his plant room. It would be easy to hide in all that foliage. Aziraphale had left that room for last, thinking it too obvious, but he needed to check now.  He sent the little ball of light high, casting silver light over the cement walls, and gasped. He’d never actually been in this room before. Crowley had invited him to his flat after they had thwarted Armageddon but they had spent the night in his study planning their next move. Aziraphale knew that Crowley kept plants but didn’t realize he had such a verdant garden! </p><p> </p><p>“Lovely,” he breathed, running his hand reverently over the broad leaves of a fiddle leaf fig, trailing his fingers along the tendrils of a golden pothos. It would be very tricky to find Crowley in here indeed. He checked again for the demon’s aura, but the space was too infused with Crowley to let him pinpoint his location. He tried to listen, but could only hear swirling water. Crowley had turned on the jacuzzi to hide any of his sounds, no doubt. Aziraphale turned it off, running his hand across the surface of the dark warm water. Did Crowley soak in here often? It must be so relaxing to laze, near weightless in this steamy bath, surrounded by such gorgeous plants. It reminded him of Eden (only better because there was a kitchen nearby.)</p><p> </p><p> Aziraphale resumed his search, softly calling out for Crowley, hoping to spook him into moving and giving up his location. Crowley seemed too clever for that though. Aziraphale checked each plant, losing track of where he had checked last and getting frustrated again. Perhaps he had passed the demon, letting him slip away into another room? He started toward the kitchen again but stopped suddenly, noticing a slight bit of movement from the corner of his eye. He turned quickly, bringing his light around. No Crowley, only a large monstera deliciosa overhanging the jacuzzi. Aziraphale frowned. His eyes were playing tricks again. The wide split leaves of the monstera shivered and dipped toward the water again. Aziraphale’s eyes widened and he grinned, dimming his light. He returned to sit by the large black tub. How could he have forgotten that Crowley didn’t need to breathe? </p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p>A walk in the park helped. That's what Thea told herself, but it had much more to do with the little trinket of rose gold sitting between her collar bones and she knew it. </p><p> </p><p>The heaviness had followed her out of the bistro and down a few blocks until she came to a stop in front of a posh looking jewelry shop. The diamonds sparkled, harsh and beautiful under the bright spotlights by the window. Thea had always been a bit of a crow when it came to shiny things but diamonds had never been of interest to her. She liked to look, though. </p><p> </p><p>There was a time (too recently) when she'd think of Anna wearing a diamond like these. Anna didn't like diamonds either, so Thea had been leaning more towards a sapphire. </p><p> </p><p>So long ago (not long ago). It couldn't hurt to look, could it? (Not any worse than standing here remembering.) Thea left the shop not long after with a rose gold initial on a delicate little chain. She'd never have bought something like that for herself, scrounging every dollar for necessities. What was one more thing to thank Crowley for?</p><p> </p><p>So she walked through the park, watching the sun filter through the bare branches, studying the play of light, taking some pictures, doing some sketches, feeling herself again between little touches of the gold through her sweater.</p><p> </p><p>She smiled at a young boy running ahead of his parents, laughing, loved. Life was warming and waking up. Thea wanted to wake up too. She popped her sketchbook away, suddenly itching to get back to her paints.</p><p> </p><p>Someone behind her gave a cry of alarm. Thea turned at the screech of tires on asphalt, the crushing sound of impact. A small vehicle rocked back on its wheels after sliding into a hydro pole.</p><p> </p><p>Thea forgot how to breathe. People were rushing to the car. The driver looked embarrassed. Thea was ruined. Her vision was blurring as she staggered away from the scene, gripping her chest as if she could claw away whatever was squeezing her lungs. </p><p> </p><p>The sky darkened, defeating the glowing sun with a threatening rumble of thunder. </p><p>Her hair lifted with a sudden gust of cold wind. The strands of chestnut brown floated around her face as though she were underwater. The lightning flashed and she could have sworn it was <em> green </em>.</p><p> </p><p>This isn't happening, she told herself. <em> It is happening. You're dissolving. You're not special. You're just a shit artist whose lucky streak died with her girlfriend. There isn't going to be anything left of you. Just some soggy matter in the dead grass, washed away in the rain. </em></p><p> </p><p>Thea's hands shook as she grabbed her phone. She searched for Crowley's number as the green lightning grew brighter, flicking along her arms, sparking at her fingertips. Crowley's name appeared an instant before the screen cracked with a loud hissing pop. Thea screamed, dropping the scorched phone in shock. Her fingers sparked again and it burned. The thunder growled, deafening. The rain came in torrents, icy cold.</p><p> </p><p>Thea ran.</p><p> </p><p>****</p><p>Crowley was feeling pretty smug. It had been maddening at first, unable to hear or smell anything while submerged in the swirling water. He had thought about surfacing several times to slake his curiosity, but pride and stubbornness kept him in a coil in the bottom corner of the jacuzzi. It felt like hours before he thought he noticed a faint light rippling ahead.  Crowley was so stressed from waiting that he nearly had a heart attack when the jets turned off. At one point Aziraphale swirled his hand in the water, but it wasn’t deep enough to touch Crowley.  He kept very still. He could feel it when the angel moved away, the vibration of his footsteps subtle through the water but snakes were made to feel vibrations, and Crowley was extremely practiced. Aziraphale was moving around the room, checking his plants, no doubt, completely clueless. Crowley was going to win this round. </p><p> </p><p>The footfalls started to move away toward another room and then stopped. The light returned hovering over the water, and Crowley squinted his big eyes, blinking. He saw the outline of a blonde head peeking into the tub and Crowley immediately closed his eyes, lest their colour give him away.  Nothing. No vibrations. Aziraphale wasn’t moving. <em> Shit Shit Shit. </em></p><p> </p><p>Suddenly the angel’s hand plunged into the water, grasping around wildly.  Crowley squeezed up against the side of the tub, trying to flatten himself as much as possible when a second hand entered the water and soon brushed against his long body. He was grasped a second later and hauled out of the water by his middle. </p><p> </p><p>“Ah Ha!” Aziraphale shouted in victory. Crowley felt a horrible impulse and went with it, coiling himself around to face the angel. Snakes can’t scream. This is a fairly well known fact, but Crowley wasn’t actually a snake so he brought his face close to the angel’s, opened his mouth wide and shrieked as loud as he could. Aziraphale yelped in surprise, slipping slightly and fell, barely missing landing in the tub. Crowley’s gambit worked and Aziraphale’s grip went slack, dropping Crowley so he could slither away.</p><p> </p><p>“You vicious little terror!” Aziraphale shouted. “I thought I’d hurt you!”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley cackled and sped away. He felt Aziraphale’s footsteps behind him closing the distance and Crowley's eyes popped a bit when the angel’s hand slammed down just behind his head, pinning him to the floor. It didn’t exactly hurt, but it didn’t feel great. <em> Methinks the angel is miffed. </em> Crowley sniggered even as Aziraphale grasped him at the base of his skull and pulled him off the floor. Crowley whipped his body violently, writhing, as he tried to free himself from the iron grasp. He opened his jaws and hissed weakly, his eyes rolling back, and his tongue hanging limp from his mouth. </p><p> </p><p>“I’m not falling for that, Crowley,” Aziraphale chided, walking quickly to the bedroom. Crowley stopped playing dead and started cackling again. The he was suddenly weightless for a split second and sailing through the air and he felt a brief moment of shock before he landed in a writhing heap on the bed. The angel fucking tossed him! Crowley filed that away to be avenged later and slithered like his life depended on it. Aziraphale was laughing. Crowley redoubled his efforts but his scales couldn’t find purchase on the silk sheets. He might as well have been on a treadmill. It was humiliating. </p><p> </p><p>“You’re on the bed,” Aziraphale announced smugly, “and you’ve immobilized yourself.”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley thought furiously. He <em> could </em> concede. That would be the mature thing to do, and with the game over he could turn the bed to a better, if equally vigorous, use. But he had lost the last game already, and damn it, he was just too fucking prideful. He returned to humanoid form, darting off the bed away from the angel.</p><p> </p><p>“You know, for someone so well read, it’s amazing you don’t know what ‘immobilize’ means,” he challenged. “I’m still very mobile, Angel.”</p><p> </p><p>“You’re a stubborn complication, my dear,” Aziraphale returned his smirk. “Get back on that bed and I’ll happily show the meaning of the word.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’d like that very much, Angel, but that’s not the game.”</p><p> </p><p>“Nevermind the sodding game,” Aziraphale snapped and rushed forward to grab Crowley. The demon quickly took the hem of the angel’s duster and pulled it up over Aziraphale’s head, before returning to serpent form. Aziraphale flung the jacket back into place, his blue eyes blazing as he scanned the room for Crowley. The door slammed shut with a snap of the angel’s fingers, trapping Crowley in the room. </p><p> </p><p><em> Oh he looks more than miffed now </em>, Crowley thought watching Aziraphale sweep his little ball of light over the floor. Fortunately gravity was merely a suggestion to a demon with an imagination, so Crowley was safely out of reach on the ceiling. He cautiously slid over to the window to hide in the drapes. This was another stroke of luck, because if he hadn’t been a 'stubborn complication', neither of them may have noticed the strange lightning.</p><p> </p><p>“Wot’ssss hhhhappening?” he asked, watching the sky light up over the park. It didn’t look right. It didn’t feel right.</p><p> </p><p>“Crowley, where the blazes are you?” Aziraphale spat.</p><p> </p><p>“The window, Angel,” Crowley answered. He dropped from the ceiling, switching back to human form and landing in a crouch. Aziraphale seized him by the back of his collar, pulling him off balance. Crowley twisted but Aziraphale pulled him back into a heated kiss. </p><p> </p><p>“Mongoose!” Crowley blurted against his lips. Aziraphale released him as if he’d been burned, looking confused and hurt.  “Something’s happening outside, Angel,” Crowley gasped, the kiss having stolen his breath. He gestured to the window, and Aziraphale quickly peered out at the dark sky with anxious eyes. Another flash of lightning and the crash of thunder rattled the window.  Aziraphale looked back at him, frightened.</p><p> </p><p>“Thea,” he whispered urgently. “She said she was going out to quit her shifts and to explore Soho.”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley cursed under his breath, taking his mobile out and hitting her number. It went directly to answerphone. He cursed again. </p><p> </p><p>“She’s supposed to be working on her fucking painting!” He growled at Aziraphale, flinging the door open and storming through the flat. Aziraphale hurried behind him, wringing his hands and making excuses like “she wanted to quit in person,” and “respectful thing to do,” and “she’s <em>not</em> <em>our</em> <em>prisoner</em>.”</p><p> </p><p>“She will be when I get my hands on her,” Crowley hissed, stomping out of the flat. “She’s fucking grounded!” </p><p> </p><p>The lift would be too slow, and Crowley was feeling too much adrenaline to stand still for even a second. He snapped himself directly into Thea’s studio, calling her name, interspersed with a few choice threats. The flat was quiet. She wasn’t here. </p><p> </p><p>More adrenaline. Another flash of lightning. He looked out the window, hoping to see her rushing back to the building in the rain. Instead he saw a tartan umbrella bobbing quickly across the street. He hissed again and snapped himself down beside the angel, miracling himself his own black umbrella.  Aziraphale didn’t bother to look up at him, his eyes were focused ahead, scanning for something. </p><p> </p><p>“Can you find her?” Crowley asked.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ve seen her aura before. I’m trying to follow it, but there is too much interference and far too many people.”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley whipped up a glamour to hide them from human eyes so they sped quickly through the park without drawing attention, moving far more quickly than a human had any right to. Some bobbies were directing traffic around a tow truck. A mild crack up. No great injuries. Thea wasn’t there. </p><p> </p><p>Crowley was momentarily distracted by the alternating lights off the police car and all at once was back in an inferno in a bookshop. He shook his head, clearing his mind of the unwanted memory, and turned away from the scene. Aziraphale was far ahead, bending to pick something up from the grass. Crowley ran to join him, his heart stuttering when he saw the scorched mobile. The screen was badly cracked and blistered. Aziraphale pressed it into his hands and Crowley dropped his umbrella, no longer caring about the cold rain. </p><p> </p><p>“Is it hellfire?” Aziraphale fretted. Crowley traced his fingers along the burns and shook his head. “Electricity,” he replied looking up at the angry clouds above. </p><p> </p><p>“She was struck?” the angel cried, peering through the curtains of rain, searching. </p><p> </p><p>“Someone would have seen,” Crowley assured him. “There’d be ambulances.”</p><p> </p><p>“Then how—” Aziraphale gestured to the mobile. “Where is she?”</p><p> </p><p><em> How the fuck should I know? </em> Crowley thought. <em> There’s nowhere for her to go except… </em></p><p> </p><p>“We missed her,” he suggested. “She’s got to be trying to get back to the flat, right?”</p><p> </p><p>They took the most direct path they could take back to the building. There was no sign of her. When they stepped back into the street in front of the building something bounced off the angel’s umbrella and skittered across the pavement. A fucking spoon. Then another one. A third hit Crowley in the shoulder and another one still hit the umbrella again. It was raining spoons. Crowley darted ahead to escape the tiny missiles of flatware, throwing open the lobby door.</p><p> </p><p>Thea was there. She was crouched on the lobby floor, her arms wrapped around her, shaking, soaked, and singed. Crowley skidded to a stop, smelling ozone. Curls of light zipped across the backs of her hands. Aziraphale cried out behind him and rushed to the girl. Crowley tried to stop him. There was a deafening crack and Crowley dropped to his knees by instinct. When he opened his eyes again the angel was sprawled on his back three feet from Thea, missing a shoe and slightly steaming.</p><p> </p><p>“Aziraphale!” Crowley shouted, pivoting instantaneously from ‘save the girl’ to ‘save the angel’. He scrambled over to the blonde. Aziraphale groaned, opening unfocused eyes. Crowley was so desperately relieved he nearly started laughing. Aziraphale took his hand weakly.</p><p> </p><p>“Crowley?”</p><p> </p><p>“You got a nasty shock, Angel,” Crowley explained, pulling Aziraphale closer to him. “Rest a minute.”</p><p> </p><p>“Thea?” Aziraphale queried faintly. Thea had collapsed onto her side, unconscious inside a ring of spoons. The scent of ozone clung to the angel’s clothing but was leaving the air. The rain was trailing off outside. Crowley reached out with some power to poke the girl. She was alive and completely unharmed, except for a bone-deep exhaustion.</p><p> </p><p>"She's alive," he whispered gratefully but the angel had fainted again. Crowley squeezed Aziraphale more tightly against his chest, his eyes narrowing. The hand in Crowley's had gone limp and he saw now that the other palm was a livid red with burns. He could smell the raw broken flesh, saw the scorch mark across the pale tartan sock. Aziraphale's shoe was across the lobby, destroyed. The smell of burning angel blood filled his nose, soon overtaken by brimstone. Crowley's eyes pricked with tears but he couldn't scrub them away. He wouldn't let go of Aziraphale for anything. The brimstone curled in his mouth and Crowley felt his teeth grow and sharpen. He was angry. So fucking angry. Angry with Thea for going out, angry at Aziraphale for letting her and for rushing in to help her when she was obviously dangerous. Angry at Gabriel and Beelzebub for cursing the stupid girl in the first place but especially for breaking their agreement to leave her the fuck alone for now. Mostly he was furious with himself for not being ready for it. He should have seen this coming. Of course they lied. He should have been ready.</p><p> </p><p>Crowley tucked his face against Aziraphale's neck as his rage boiled over into a monstrous scream. The hydro flickered under the assault of such loathsome fury and died, leaving only the dull green emergency lights glowing in the dark lobby.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. I Walk in Ashes</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Aziraphale is badly injured after the storm and Crowley begins to lose control in his desperation to help the angel. Fueled by his fear, rage and demonic nature, Crowley crosses a line that may cost him everything.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Warning! Please check the updated tags. This chapter could be upsetting to some readers!</p><p>Crowley is having some issues here that contribute to both dissociating pretty hard and straight-up assaulting someone, he starts trying to make it better, but it is there and it stings.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Thea woke up with a pounding headache and an awful crick in her neck. Her first thought was that she must have blacked out drinking, but she hadn’t done that since she was nineteen. How did she end up sprawled face-down on her couch? Why did she feel like she was so much cotton and bags of sand stitched together? Questions continued to pile up as she crawled off the couch and staggered into the kitchen to get some water. How did she get back to the flat? Why couldn’t she remember? Why was her throat so sore? Why did she taste ash on her tongue? Why was her favourite sweater singed? Why was there a furious looking demon standing in her doorway?</span>
</p><p> </p><p><span>“Crowley?” she croaked. He hissed something but she couldn’t make it out. Her ears felt like they needed to pop. She shook her head and filled a glass of water. </span><em><span>Shit, Crowley looks extra spooky this morning,</span></em><span> she thought, taking a few good swallows of cool water.</span><em><span> Good thing he’s always got that green light.</span></em><span> Except, wait. Was it green? She looked up again and </span><em><span>Holy</span></em> <em><span>Fuck</span></em><span> the light was fucking </span><em><span>yellow</span></em><span> and how had she missed that? </span></p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Crowley had crossed the room already by the time Thea had come out of her fog, her senses finally snapping clear as she darted back, afraid. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I said you’re coming with me,” Crowley snapped. Thea started to ask what had happened? What was wrong? What changed? All of her questions died in her throat with a shrill yelp when Crowley grabbed her by the back of her neck. His hand was uncomfortably hot against her skin and his fingers felt like wrought iron. He pulled her along with him out of the flat to the lift which opened for him before he got there. Thea panicked and twisted away, tried to run, but Crowley caught her by her hair and yanked her back, shoving her into the lift. Her heart raced as the door closed. She didn’t understand. She cringed when he looked at her, barely able to make him out through her tears. Was he going to beat her? Was he going to kill her? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Thea felt the lift start to move up and she blinked hard to clear her vision of tears. Crowley’s face was impassive behind his dark glasses, his lips a thin line of stress.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re going to heal the angel,” he glowered. His voice was cold and dripped with venom.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What…?” She gulped. “What happened to Aziraphale?” Crowley’s answer was a low inhuman sound and Thea cringed away from it, shaking so badly her knees started to give out. Crowley caught her as she started to sink to the floor and hauled her back up. The doors opened and Thea was half dragged, half carried along as Crowley rushed down the hall. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why are you so angry?” she sobbed. “Please, I don’t understand!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Crowley slowed then, seemed to give himself a little shake. He wouldn’t look at her, and Thea didn’t want him to. She wanted to run. She wanted to run and run and run and run and run.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His grip loosened slightly, but when Thea pushed with her legs to bolt the grip tightened again and he snarled. The door to another flat opened and Thea was dragged across the threshold, tripping and fighting weakly, startled yelps and pleas wrung from her throat until Crowley roughly shoved her to the floor in front of a silvery grey couch. Instantly Thea threw up her hands in what was bound to be a futile attempt to protect herself. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Good Lord, Crowley. What have you done?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Thea’s gaze snapped up at the sound of Aziraphale’s voice. The angel was a mess, lying on the couch before her. He was paler than usual, and looked weak and shaky. His hand was messily bandaged, as was one foot, and there were scorch marks on his trousers and shirt. His eyes were clear, though, if tired. Most importantly to Thea at the moment, though, was that the light above the angel’s chest was vibrant and green, and she wanted to throw herself at him in relief. She stayed still though, the stillness of a rabbit in the bush. What would Crowley do if she moved too close to the injured angel? Aziraphale looked fragile. The exhaustion stained purple under his eyes like a bruise. Thea looked down at her own scorched sweater.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What happ—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Heal the bloody angel!” Crowley snapped and Thea felt his voice crack against her back like a whip. She cried out in alarm and pressed in close to the couch as if just those few centimeters would protect her. Maybe they would. She felt Aziraphale’s bandaged hand on her shoulder. It was a gentle, possibly even weak touch, and it felt like a shield.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Crowley, you will stop threatening this poor girl,” Aziraphale demanded. His voice was soft, quiet.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thea,” Crowley’s voice rumbled behind her, softer this time and still fucking terrifying. Thea flinched. “Heal the angel, </span>
  <em>
    <span>please.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know how!” she cried. “I don’t know what happened! I don’t know what’s happening, I don’t understand, please don’t—just—"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Shush, my dear,” Aziraphale cooed. She felt his hand brush across her hair lightly and leaned into the gentle touch, seeking shelter as she sobbed. “It’s all right. No need to be frightened." It felt like Thea cried for hours, for seasons, all her accumulated terrors since the accident welling up her throat like floodwater, uncontrollable. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Crowley, dear. I would really like a bit of ice cream, if you would be so kind,” she heard Aziraphale say. His light tone seemed forced. There was movement behind her and Thea flinched again. “With a chocolate flake, if you can manage it?” The angel had raised his voice. Did that mean Crowley was leaving? </span>
  <em>
    <span>Please please please go so I can run and run and run.</span>
  </em>
  <span> A door slammed. Thea nearly wrenched herself out of her own skin, gasping and twitching like an injured rabbit.  She bolted to her feet, sliding away from the angel’s gentle hand, her eyes darting about the room, still half expecting to see the demon glaring at her. He was gone though, and she could go. She should go. She should.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m so very sorry, my girl.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Thea’s eyes darted back to Aziraphale. He winced, trying to sit up to reach for a glass beside him. She was disturbed by the disheveled wrung out look of him. She should be running away but instead she returned to the couch and helped a weak angel of the Almighty sit up and take a sip of water. Healing wasn’t something she understood that she could do. She did it once, at the bistro, but that had just been a thing that had happened. It wasn’t something she controlled.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But Aziraphale was in pain, and he shouldn’t be. Thea sat down on the floor again by the angel and tried to think healing thoughts. Absolutely sweet dick-all happened. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are you all right?” Aziraphale asked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No. Shut up. I’m trying to heal you,” she grumbled, before immediately giving up and looking up at him imploringly. “What's happening? Why does Crowley want to kill me? Should I run? </span>
  <em>
    <span>Can</span>
  </em>
  <span> I run? Are you going to be all right?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Aziraphale winced again and Thea bit her lip to stop the questions spilling out of her mouth.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I will try to explain,” he began, pausing to see if she would just keep babbling over him like a mad woman. She wanted to. She bit her lip harder and nodded to show she was listening.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“There was a storm over the park last night. Do you remember?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Thea remembered thunder, the sound of glass breaking, her phone burning apart from inside. Aziraphale told her how he and Crowley had gone to look for her, found her in the lobby. He winced again, as he explained that she was the one who had electrocuted him with her lightning. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Her lightning.</span>
  </em>
  <span> She had hurt a fucking angel with</span>
  <em>
    <span> her lightning</span>
  </em>
  <span>. What the absolute ever loving fuck?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“As for Crowley,” Aziraphale continued, and his face changed from sympathy to some mixture of concern and disappointment. “It's hard for him, I’m afraid. He will come around. He certainly doesn’t want to kill you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He might,” Thea warned. “How well do you know him?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Goodness, I think I know him fairly well,” Aziraphale smiled. “However you don’t need my word, do you? Your green light tells you who you can trust”.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Exactly, Aziraphale. And his light wasn’t green. It was yellow!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Aziraphale was quiet for a moment, clearly having trouble processing this. “What does that mean, do you suppose? A yellow light?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Thea had wondered about it before. It wasn’t a colour that showed up very often in her limited time having this ability. Most people didn’t have a light at all, something she attributed to indifference. Someone she passed on the street and may never see again wasn’t worthy of a light, it seemed. Sometimes she would see someone look at her, and a dull red would bloom over their hips or their head and she would get away from them as quickly as possible. Mostly she saw various shades of green, people who meant her no harm, would help when and how they could. Lynn had been a lovely emerald when she had come in that day for a sandwich, and before she knew it Thea had vomited all her tragedy all over the poor woman. She walked out of there with a massive to-go box and a job.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But yellow?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I think it means he hasn’t decided yet,” she mumbled. “It could go either way. He might be back to green when he gets back. He might not.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ll speak with him,” Aziraphale declared, as if that was the end of it. Maybe it would be, if the angel could stand.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Can you tell me how to do it?” she asked. He looked at her, confused. “How do I heal you?. I know I healed that guy in the bistro but I don’t—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Go to that cupboard behind you,” Aziraphale pointed with his gaze and Thea obeyed, opening a small cabinet full of various liquor bottles. “Take out the Glenmorangie,” he continued. She did, opening the bottle as she returned with it. The aroma was amazing. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Az, you are my kind of angel,” she laughed. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Ha ha ha. I like whisky. This single malt Scotch will totally make everything okay. I’m definitely not pissing myself because I’m cursed and Crowely doesn’t know if he wants to tear my throat out and he’s supposed to be helping me and my kind-of-angel is fucking bedridden and needs my useless hide to heal him. Lol what a fucking joke.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You seem like you could use some fortifying, dear,” Aziraphale replied, his smile patient. “You likely won’t be able to heal me when you’re worried for your immediate safety.” Aziraphale continued. “And you shouldn’t have to feel so afraid. I’m sorry. I wish I —” he sighed, and trailed off. Thea thought she understood. Everything was a mess. Everyone was hurting. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She sat back down on the floor with her back against the couch and took a swig of the Scotch from the bottle. Rude, and Crowley was already pissed at her, but also fuck him? There was apparently enough distance between her and the immediate threat that her fear was morphing into sullen anger.  The whisky felt—not great—on her empty stomach but it gave her something else to think about.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“They say God helps those who help themselves,” she muttered, making up her mind to stop being a jackrabbit and (pretend at least to) be a lion.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“She doesn’t tend to do much either way,” Aziraphale muttered back. Thea smiled at the pronoun. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay.” She turned around and gave the angel her best determined smile. “I’m ready. Tell me how to help you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>*****</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(The Previous Night)</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Crowley shook with fury, snatching off his glasses and throwing them away, straining to see in the pulsing green emergency lighting. Fucking Christ; what a time for the electric to go out. No fucking lift. He snapped his fingers and brought Aziraphale up to his flat, laying him out on the couch, swearing when he realized he should have used the bed, deciding it didn’t matter. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He gently removed Aziraphale’s jacket and waistcoat. The angel’s pocket watch was cracked and the satin backing of the waistcoat was stained, but those were simple enough fixes best left for now. He unlaced the angel’s remaining shoe, trying to keep from accidentally touching the injured right foot. He would have to remove that sock, and Aziraphale’s ring from his burnt hand. Occasionally the poor angel would twitch, a jerking spasm that dragged a pained sound from both their throats.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Don’t forget about the girl,</span>
  </em>
  <span> he reminded himself. </span>
  <em>
    <span>No. Aziraphale comes first,</span>
  </em>
  <span> he argued with himself. </span>
  <em>
    <span>She’s just unconscious on the lobby floor where anyone could see her though the doors and—Fuck! Fine! Fuck! </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He snapped himself back down the lobby, kicked the fucking spoons out of the way and pulled Thea up. Another snap and he was in her flat, flinging her onto her couch and he was back up to Aziraphale before she landed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The poor angel was a mess. Crowley’s hands twitched at the thought of peeling off the sock, or removing the ring, so he opted for a miracle in both instances. Healing was never his strong suit but he tried that too. He concentrated and pushed and twisted his infernal powers to soothe and repair the angel’s wounds. He chewed his lip bloody, tears running down his face as he tried to force his power to obey him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Crowley?” Aziraphale groaned. He looked confused. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m here, Angel. You’re safe in my flat,” Crowley assured him. “Are you… Are you in much pain?” There was a nod, a brief jerking motion, Aziraphale’s plump lips pulled against teeth in a grimace he was shit at hiding. Crowley rushed to the kitchen to get his ancient first aid kit. He grabbed another pair of glasses from a drawer while he was at it. He returned with bandages and a mixing bowl of cool water and hidden eyes. He tended to Aziraphale’s wounds as best as he was able. He even sacrificed more than half of his aloe plant, tearing the pieces off and squeezing the pulp out over the saw broken skin until every reddened part was coated in cactus gel. He wrapped the burns in clean bandages and hoped he had done a good enough job. It looked like shit. It was probably a shit job. Shit.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Aziraphale slept for several hours while Crowley paced like a caged animal. Every pained sound from the angel broke his heart over and over again. Someone would pay for this. Someone would. He’d see to it. He would ki— </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The sun was rising outside, the sky pink and clear, no sign of the black clouds and lightning. It had stopped when Thea passed out. After she almost killed Aziraphale. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>That’s not fair. She didn’t have any control over it.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>What does it matter if it is fair or not? When has it ever mattered what is fair?  It happened. She electrocuted Aziraphale!</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Someone </span>
    <span>did </span>
    <span>this to her.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It isn’t our fight. We never should have gotten involved. Kick her out. Get rid of her before she hurts the angel again.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>She’s alone. She’s practically a kid for fuck’s sake. You can’t just abandon her.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The fuck I can’t!</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It went on like this for hours, the arguing in his head as he paced and gnashed his teeth. It wasn’t helping. He wasn’t calming down. He couldn’t even <em>see</em> the path back to calm. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Crowl—” Aziraphale coughed. Crowley was instantly at his side. “Water ple—” Crowley summoned a glass of water and helped the angel take sips. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Easy, Angel,” he whispered. “Do you think you can heal yourself now? Are you rested enough?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Aziraphale nodded, made a slightly constipated face, and then shook his head. He twitched again and bit back a yelp. Crowley felt himself despair.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Is Thea all right?” Azirphale asked after a brief rest. His voice was clearer. The water must have helped. “Have you checked on her?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“She’s fine, I—” he paused. He wasn’t sure really. He had dumped her in her flat and that was it. “I’m sure she’s fine. What do you need? How can I help?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Check on her?” Aziraphale looked weak. So fucking weak and hurt. How much current was going through that little shit to do this to a fucking Principality?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fine I’ll—Okay, I’ll check but—I’ll be right back. Just rest.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Crowley felt like he was falling apart. He didn’t want to leave the Aziraphale's side. He wanted to go off to Alpha Centauri all over again. He wanted some fucking peace.  He snapped down to the 7th floor and nearly fell against the wall. Shit he was tired. He was draining himself with all this snapping around, trying to push his willpower around for hours, and when was the last time he was awake all night? Oh right, the day the world didn’t end. Fuck, he hated all-nighters. He hated archangels and demons. He hated. Hated.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Thea was standing at the kitchen counter. She was fucking standing! Aziraphale wasn’t standing and for a second he hated. Hated. Hated.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She glanced at him. "Crowley?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p><em><span>It's</span></em> <em><span>not</span></em> <em><span>her</span></em> <em><span>fault</span></em><span>.</span></p><p> </p><p><em><span>It</span></em> <em><span>doesn't</span></em> <em><span>matter</span></em><span>.</span></p><p> </p><p><em><span>She's</span></em> <em><span>fine</span></em><span>. </span><em><span>You've</span></em> <em><span>seen</span></em> <em><span>her</span></em> <em><span>and</span></em> <em><span>she's</span></em> <em><span>fine</span></em><span>. </span><em><span>Just</span></em> <em><span>go</span></em><span>.</span></p><p> </p><p><em><span>She's</span></em> <em><span>a</span></em> <em><span>healer</span></em><span>, </span><em><span>right?</span></em> <em><span>She</span></em> <em><span>can</span></em> <em><span>heal</span></em> <em><span>Aziraphale</span></em><span>.</span></p><p> </p><p><em><span>She</span></em> <em><span>can</span></em> <em><span>heal</span></em> <em><span>the</span></em> <em><span>angel</span></em><span>. </span><em><span>She</span></em> <em><span>fucking</span></em> <em><span>better</span></em><span>.</span></p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You're coming with me," he hissed. She wavered on her feet a little, her hands shaking as she finished pouring the water. She shook her head. She seemed disoriented. Crowley didn't care if she was discombobulated. She could stand. She hurt Aziraphale. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He stalked up to her, feeling the hot swell of hellfire flooding to limbs ready to fight. He shook his hands violently to dismiss it before he burned everything in this flat.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Maybe Thea sensed it, she looked up suddenly and she looked frightened. She fell back away from him, looked at him like he was a monster, and something in him just snapped.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I said you're coming with me," he growled.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I'll show you a fucking monster if you don't—</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Don't do this, mate. You're better than this.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It surprised him a little when it happened. Something about the stink of fear and his own exhaustion and anger. Maybe it was a predator/prey thing. Fuck if he knew, but Thea started to run and he just grabbed her by the back of her neck. She screamed. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Of course she screamed. A fucking demon just grabbed her by the back of the neck.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>This is a bad time to start disassociating. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Perfect time, really. When would be a better time?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Let her go. Apologize. Explain.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>No time. Heal Aziraphale.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He began hauling her to the lift. Too tired for more miracles. Shit, he basically redid his entire plant room the day before. Miracle city, that was. Never slept. Never recharged. He was pushing it just a bit.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>If you hurt her, Aziraphale will never forgive you.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>If he dies —</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He won't. He can't. He won't.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Thea tried to twist free, tried to run and </span>
  <em>
    <span>shit </span>
  </em>
  <span>she <em>had</em> to stop doing that because he wasn’t really in control here. He was definitely having a moment and every time she tried to rabbit he just struck and it didn’t look great. He knew it. Twisting his hand in her hair and throwing her into the lift. It was a bad fucking look.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shit, she was crying. She was cringing back like he was going to hit her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Don't you fucking dare, you psychopath. Don't you fucking touch her again.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You're going to heal the angel," he growled. She'd fix what she did to Aziraphale and then he'd fix what he did to her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Solid plan, Crowley. Brilliant as always. Definitely not going to be a problem.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Wha…?” She was shaking. Fucking hell, what was he doing? “What happened to Aziraphale?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He saw it all over again. The loud crack of electricity and Aziraphale just gone for a moment, blown back by the shock, burned and— He shouldn’t have gotten off the bed. He should have let the angel win the game, pulled him down, kissed him senseless, fucked him blind so he wouldn’t see the storm outside. They’d be safe. Aziraphale would be safe. Crowley made a sound in his throat like a sick cow. Thea started to collapse. Crowley caught her and pulled her upright. She didn’t get to collapse until the angel was better. Then she could rest, or die for all he cared.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You care. You know you fucking care, you stupid —</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The lift stopped, Crowley pulled her along. The sooner she fixed the angel, the sooner he could fix this. It was a bad stupid plan but he was already in the middle of it so…</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why are you so angry?” Thea sobbed. “Please, I don’t understand!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Because I’m a demon. Because I’m damned and useless and broken. Because there was only ever one good thing in this thrice-fucked world and you broke it. You hurt Aziraphale. You hurt me. And when I’m hurt...I hurt. I break things. I ruin everything. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It's my fault. I should have been ready.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Crowley slowed. He was ruining everything. What the fuck was he doing? His grip loosened and Thea twisted away </span>
  <em>
    <span>again </span>
  </em>
  <span>and he lashed out </span>
  <em>
    <span>again </span>
  </em>
  <span>and why did he keep doing that?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Too late now. She will run. You fucked it up and now she’ll run and you can’t stop it. So make sure she heals Aziraphale before she goes.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This was going to end very badly for Crowley.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>What else is new?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So, he was committed, right? Already fully 'going off the rails on a crazy train'. So yeah, why not follow through and drag a girl kicking and screaming through his flat for the angel?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  
  <em>
    <span>I’m sure he’s going to be super grateful. Really. Aziraphale is going to just love this to pieces.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And he didn’t, as it turned out. Aziraphale looked really fucking horrified. Cue the sad trombones. Crowley really thought he had a winner here. Whatever, this is the crazy train.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Not funny. Stop it. Just stop it. He said he loved you. He said he loved you and you act like this?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Aziraphale told him to stop threatening Thea. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>wasn’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>threatening her. He just told her to heal Aziraphale. He had been pretty clear about this the entire way here. She healed some random bloke in a bistro. She would heal the angel she fucked up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Thea was crying. Sobbing and it sounded like the soundtrack of Crowley’s festering soul. He blinked. Blinked again. Shook his head. Boggled. Fuck, it felt like he was waking up, so why did he feel so tired? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Crowley, dear. I could really go for a bit of ice cream, if you would be so kind,” Aziraphale said. He knew well enough what he was really saying. </span>
  <em>
    <span>My dear boy, you have terrorized this innocent girl I wanted to protect. If you don’t vanish immediately, I’m afraid the consequences will be a fair bit steeper than you may wish to pay. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>All he wanted was some peace. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>*****</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Aziraphale closed his eyes for a moment and silently recited a prayer. Crowley was suffering. Thea was suffering and he…</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He gritted his teeth against another bolt of agony and forced himself to smile when Thea offered him a sip from the bottle of Scotch. She had done the same thing once before, her face sympathetic. The last time he’d cringed and waved it away. This time he took the bottle.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He'd given Crowley this bottle as a gift the day after they had won their freedom from their respective head offices. They had always given each other little gifts ever since the Arrangement and Aziraphale had wanted to make sure Crowley understood he'd like that to continue. He wanted to make sure Crowley didn't disappear. Everything had gone completely sideways and Crowley really was all he had left. At the Ritz they had toasted the world. The next day at the shop, they toasted their friendship.  Now Aziraphale lifted the bottle to his lips and Crowley wasn’t here. The poor boy was by himself, no doubt trapped in his mind, spiraling off to nowhere good. Aziraphale had seen Crowley like this before and knew the signs. It was one thing for Crowley to don his facade of being the soulless vile creature —Hell would have had some things to say about it all otherwise—but it was a very bad thing indeed when Crowley actually forgot that deep down he was good.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And he was good. Aziraphale </span>
  <em>
    <span>knew</span>
  </em>
  <span> he was good. He couldn’t believe that Crowley was remotely capable of harming Thea. Something was obviously very wrong. Aziraphale glanced at Thea and was relieved to see that she was no longer shaking. Her eyes were dry and held the same angry determination they did when she’d first learned what they were at her old flat. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Do you believe you are calm enough to begin?" he asked the girl, hoping he sounded calm himself. Healing an ethereal being was bound to be quite different than healing a human, and there was no guarantee that she could even heal a </span>
  <em>
    <span>human</span>
  </em>
  <span> on command.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I'm ready," Thea nodded. She opened and closed her hands a couple times, and Aziraphale bit back a sigh at the show of nerves. A moment later she gently placed her hands on his arm, careful to avoid the bandages. She closed her eyes and for a long time nothing happened. Her brow was furrowed. Aziraphale frowned and tried not to sigh again. He wasn't optimistic about Thea's success at this but he still hoped. Too much needed fixing. Crowley was suffering. Thea was suffering, and he was...well, he was <em>dashed</em> uncomfortable. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He glanced at his ring, sitting on the table near his water glass. He couldn't remember ever having taken it off before. His right hand twitched as if wanting to reach for it and the subtle movement sent such a shock of pain searing across his hand that he physically bit his tongue to keep from crying out. He hated to cause the girl more distress. She was trying so hard.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>An hour passed and nothing </span>
  <em>
    <span>continued</span>
  </em>
  <span> to happen, except that Aziraphale had managed to drink the rest of the bottle of scotch and was feeling rather heavy and light at the same time. The twitching had lessened somewhat and the pain was coming at a distance now as his eyelids slid slowly closed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He was at the bookshop, sorting through some of his older private collection. Thea was sipping tea on the couch and laughing at something Crowley had whispered to her. Aziraphale watched them, smiling fondly. He felt his chest swell with love as Crowley continued to pantomime some silly story for Thea's amusement. The demon laughed then as well and Aziraphale nearly swooned. He adored Crowley's laugh.  The demon tended to put on a mask of aloof coolness, all smirks and sarcasm. His real, pleased laugh was something rare and beautiful and precious.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Aziraphale cherished the sound, breathing Crowley's laughter into himself, feeding off it, glowing with it. A ring of light bloomed around his little finger and Aziraphale wondered where his actual ring was.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Aziraphale woke slowly. His throat felt dry and his mouth pasty, and there was an ashy taste on his tongue.  His mouth curled in a moue of distaste and he smacked his lips before he noticed the powerful twitching had abated. He felt more alert and nearly himself, the pain now localized to his burns. Thea was still kneeling beside the couch, her hands warm against his arm and her eyes closed. She could have been asleep if it weren't for the way her loose hair drifted around her shoulders as though it were being moved by invisible currents of water. Her fingernails glowed with a dull green light. Aziraphale experimented with flexing his burnt fingers and found them still very clumsy and painful. He wasn't healed, but he was quite suddenly back to his own full power. He raised his good hand, blinking back tears of relief, and snapped.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>*****</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Crowley didn't get any ice cream. He wandered aimlessly around London in a daze, his eyes cast down to his dragging feet, depending on luck and supernatural senses to avoid bumping into anyone. He didn't look up until someone touched his shoulder.</span>
</p><p> </p><p><span>They were blurry. A head shorter than him and female shaped, with jet black hair. He blinked and shook the tears from his eyes. </span><em><span>Crying</span></em> <em><span>again?</span></em> <em><span>Gross</span></em><span>. The other person wobbled into focus. </span></p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Come on, luv," Lynn coaxed. He hadn't ever seen her outside the bistro. She was wearing jeans and a puffy red coat. Crowley realized he hadn't bothered with outerwear and suddenly the cold rushed into his bones. They were a few storefronts down from the bistro and Lynn propelled him there without any argument. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Something</span>
  </em>
  <span> tugged at him as he passed through the front door but he was pulled through the dining room and into a small office before he could think much of it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"David," she called to a man in a chef's coat. "Would you have someone bring us two coffees and a bowl of the stew please?" The man nodded.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I...I'm fine," Crowley stammered through clattering teeth. "I don't—"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You are frozen through and I won't let one of my best customers turn into a block of ice." Lynn's smile was teasing but warm and Crowley let her ease him into the chair in front of her desk. "I don't think Salt and Smoke will survive the loss of revenue."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was a quiet knock and a petite blonde server entered with a steaming bowl of beef stew and two cups of glorious-smelling coffee. Fuck, he was tired.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He didn't intend to indulge her, he really didn't, but two minutes later the coffee was gone along with half the stew. Lynn sipped her coffee, looking over what looked like a sample menu on a small tablet. She wasn't looking at him, giving him space to settle and warm up. Crowley had the sudden realization that this was weird behaviour. People didn't do this for other people, did they?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Um, thanks, I'll just settle up out front?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You'll do no such thing," Lynn countered, finally looking up from her tablet. "I brought you into my office, ordered for you. You're not a customer at the moment. How is Thea?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Crowley shrugged quickly, unnerved by the question only slightly more than the kindness. "Dunno. Haven't seen her since we took her home that day."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lynn sighed and shook her head in mild annoyance. "Well, I hope she is doing well. She quit her shifts yesterday."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"S'too bad," Crowley mumbled, pushing around a bit a of beef with his fork. Did Lynn know something about Thea? All of this was suddenly feeling a bit too coincidental. He let his eyes roam the room again, hidden behind his glasses. The office reminded him of the bookshop. Messy, comfortable, functional. Pretty little jars full of pretty little salt crystals. A framed culinary award, picture on the desk of a couple raven-haired kids covered in flour. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You don't need to worry about being bothered here if you'd like to take your time and finish your lunch," Lynn said finally as she stood and picked up her coffee and tablet. "You seemed to need some space to think."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Crowley narrowed his eyes but Lynn held his gaze, expectant but without judgment. She reminded him of Aziraphale, he had always liked her. He nodded. She gave his bony shoulder a squeeze and left. Crowley started to get up as well. Something was weird about this place and he wasn’t going to stick around to find out what. Had enough on his plate, didn’t he? He should definitely go—</span>
  <span>He couldn't go back to the flat yet, not after what he'd done.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> He looked at his watch. It had only been a couple hours since he last screamed at Thea. It usually took him weeks to realize when he’d been a monster. This turnaround was darn near </span>
  <em>
    <span>immediate </span>
  </em>
  <span>for him. He doubted Thea would appreciate that detail. Fuck, his affinity for self-sabotage truly knew no bounds. He eased back down into his chair, still exhausted and chilled but figuring he'd take comfortable-but-weird over freezing and panicking....</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Crowley picked at the stew, thinking. He hated thinking. Especially hated thinking about how he'd been a total prick. Jesus fuck, he needed to sleep. Thea and Aziraphale were likely back at his flat. He couldn’t go back there yet. Maybe he'd take one of the empty flats in the building, hide in a cupboard and sleep for a couple decades. That sounded perfect right now.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>So we’re going to abandon the Aziraphale to figure this mess out on his own, are we? Let him face off with Gabriel and Beelzebub in a futile effort to save Thea, alone, while he’s injured, no less? </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That wasn’t going to happen. Which meant he was going to have to <em>apologize</em>. Crowley tilted his head back and uttered a long petulant groan of frustration. He snatched Lynn’s memo pad and scrawled a quick note before stuffing it in his pocket. He left the bistro giving a tired lopsided smile to that weirdo Lynn, who once again refused payment, then slipping the blonde server a £50 banknote out of spite.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He shivered the whole way back to the building, shook with more than cold when he reached the 8th floor. He paused outside the flat, took the note from his pocket and put it face up on the floor. After a deep breath, Crowley knocked on the door and sank back down into his smallest serpent form. He felt the rumble of footsteps. They landed too heavily to be Thea. He knew them. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Angel?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The door opened and there stood Aziraphale, looking confused and healthy and stuffy and perfectly dressed. The angel’s gaze finally found Crowley stunned on the floor.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What on Earth—Ack!” </span>
  <span>Crowley had already launched himself at the angel, turning human midway and wrapping him in a shivery hug. </span>
  <span>“Oh! Crowley! What?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re all right, Angel!” Crowley sighed against the angel’s neck, pressing his frozen lips against warm skin. “You’re all right. You’re all right.”   </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was a loaded pause before Aziraphale returned the hug. Enough time for Crowley to awkwardly remember the shit he’d put himself in.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I am," Aziraphale gently stepped out of the embrace and Crowley pretended his heart wasn't breaking again as the angel picked up his note.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"<em>Please Boop</em>," he read out loud. Crowley made an embarrassed noise and the angel smiled slightly. "It might work."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Is Thea here?" Crowley asked, lowering his voice. "Should I…" he trailed off and made a slithering motion with his hand.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> Aziraphale shook his head. "She left to get some rest, although I can't be certain she returned to the flat. I wouldn't be surprised if she left for the airport, to be honest.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Crowley winced. "You think?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Come in. We need to talk.” Aziraphale sighed, leading Crowley into the flat. All the bandages had been cleaned up and the only evidence that anything of this had happened was an empty bottle of scotch on the coffee table and Aziraphale's sad serious eyes. "You've made quite a mess of things, Crowley," the angel sighed. He looked so disappointed. Crowley chewed his lip and thrust his hands into his pockets to keep from fidgeting too much. He hated being in conflict with Aziraphale. He never knew how to make it right.  "You frightened Thea, my dear. She doesn’t believe she can trust you now. She told me your light had gone amber!"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Crowley's eyes widened in surprise and he was very glad for the cover offered by his glasses. No help against the flush he felt over his face, though. What did an amber light mean?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"It’s a mistake, isn’t it?" the angel asked, his blue eyes wide with concern. "Were you trying to decide if you wanted to harm her? Were you a potential threat?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ah, that's what it meant. Crowley panicked. He felt trapped. There was no answer to Aziraphale’s questions that wouldn’t result in the angel leaving and never speaking to him again</span>
  <em>
    <span>. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Might as well tell the truth, yeah? He’s gonna see through you anyway. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, Angel. I guess I was.”  Aziraphale made a soft sound of disgust and Crowley rushed to try to explain. “Look, I know it looks bad but you were—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I can't believe you would even dare! I know you are angry and hurting but she's barely more than a child!"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Crowley’s sleep deprived brain sputtered and stalled out. He started to respond and stopped. He felt bristly, defensive, cold. "Hold on," he shook his head with a bitter laugh. "Just a </span>
  <em>
    <span>bit</span>
  </em>
  <span> too much to unpack there coming from </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Aziraphale."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Excuse me?" the angel warned.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Crowley growled, wrapping himself in indignation like armour. "Nevermind that you're apparently ever so shocked that a demon could be capable of violence—"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Oh. Are you </span>
  <em>
    <span>a demon</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Crowley? I'd never have guessed," Aziraphale snarked. "Lord knows you've never mentioned—"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You love to forget it when it's convenient," Crowley jabbed back. "But I remember you desperately trying to have </span>
  <em>
    <span>me kill Warlock,</span>
  </em>
  <span> and he actually </span>
  <em>
    <span>was </span>
  </em>
  <span>a child</span>
  <span>."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Aziraphale looked apoplectic. "How dare you! We thought he was the Antichrist!"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Wasn't though, was he?" Crowley hissed, slithering to what he hoped was higher ground. "He was an innocent boy and you wanted </span>
  <em>
    <span>me</span>
  </em>
  <span> to murder him because…" he mimicked Aziraphale's accent again as he quoted "I'm the nice one. You can't expect </span>
  <em>
    <span>me </span>
  </em>
  <span>to do </span>
  <em>
    <span>the dirty work</span>
  </em>
  <span>."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Aziraphale recoiled as if he had been slapped. Crowley wasn't done with his venom though. He remembered every word of those conversations, running their implications over and over in his mind. "You knew exactly what I was then, didn't you, Angel? A filthy crawling demon capable of violence against a child. The one in the dirt!"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They stood still as the words reverberated around them. Aziraphale's eyes shone with unshed tears and Crowley felt his eyes well up as well.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You refused," Aziraphale said finally, slowly taking a seat on the couch. "You refused with Warlock. You refused with Adam. I tried—if Madam Tracey hadn't stopped me I would have—" the angel turned away. Crowley felt his anger begin to subside and inwardly screamed at his stupid worthless heart when it tried to feel </span>
  <em>
    <span>concern</span>
  </em>
  <span> instead. "My dear," Aziraphale murmured. "You could well bring up hundreds of instances of me being wrongheaded and cruel to you. It was dangerous for me to admit that you have always been better than me in dozens of ways. Even to myself."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Wot?" Crowley scoffed. That was stupid. "No. I'm not."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You are," Aziraphale urged. "And you are right about me. At least about how I was before Armageddon. I'm afraid I had a rather enlightening education that week." Aziraphale stood again and walked over to Crowley, but the demon fell back a few steps, suddenly wary of the angel's softness. "Crowley, I don't believe you treated Thea as you did because you are a demon."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Nah. I'm just a miserable sod, am I?" Crowley snarled.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Not at all. I'm trying to tell you, you were right about </span>
  <em>
    <span>me</span>
  </em>
  <span>!"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You?" Crowley had lost the conversation.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I was the one who tried to have you harm a child."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Crowley winced. Fuck. What a thing to say. "I shouldn’t have—"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Would you listen?" Aziraphale pleaded. Crowley gave him a resentful grimace but shut his mouth. "You never considered harming either boy, but I asked you to do it. I asked </span>
  <em>
    <span>Heaven</span>
  </em>
  <span> to do it. In the end I tried—" he broke off when his voice cracked. Aziraphale was shaking, his face pale and tears freely falling down his cheeks. Crowley didn't remember taking Aziraphale back into his arms, but he found himself holding the angel as Aziraphale quickly hurried on. "My point, my <em>point</em> is, perhaps we are all capable of being monstrous when we are desperately afraid."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Crowley sighed sadly. The grim, cruel chattering in the back of his skull subsided. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Angel."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You </span>
  <em>
    <span>were</span>
  </em>
  <span>, weren't you?" Aziraphale looked up at him, his blue eyes wet with sorrow and love. Crowley tried to look away, feeling undone, but the angel placed his hand on Crowley's cheek and the demon pressed his face into the warm palm instead. "You were desperately afraid? Because I was so badly injured?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Crowley whimpered and hated himself for it. He gritted his teeth at the effort it took to hold his stupid feelings in. "Angel, please. You looked so—"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Aziraphale kissed him. It was a slow and gentle press of lips that lifted and settled again, lingering each time. It was gentle and sweet and kind, everything Aziraphale was, and Crowley was instantly addicted. He let Aziraphale run his blunt fingers through his hair, felt the ring on his little finger lightly tug at his scalp and moaned helplessly at the reminder that his angel was whole and well. He happily returned the kiss, wrapping long cold fingers around the angel's waist, running under the jacket and up the silk back of his waistcoat. The kiss deepened, but was still achingly slow and sweet. Crowley could taste the salt of the angel's tears, (or was it his own?), licked into Aziraphale's mouth, counted his teeth with his forked tongue. Aziraphale pressed back, bit at Crowley's lips, poured breath and heat back into the demon's tired cold body. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Crowley pulled away, feeling dizzy. "Angel, I'm sorry. You're so good. You're so pure and I shouldn't have said—"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Crowley, my dear—"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Only two days for me to cock it all up," Crowley laughed bitterly, resting his forehead against the angel's. "Thought I'd at least make it a week."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"It will be all right, Crowley. You haven't—"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You're going to leave, won't you?" Crowley moaned. "Only a matter of time before you get tired of my shit and—"</span>
</p><p> </p><p><span>"Crowley!" Aziraphale took Crowley by the shoulders, giving him a firm shake. His voice held the tenor of a proper fucking Guardian and it made Crowley snap to attention. The angel's face was stern. "I have known you longer than anyone, since the bloody beginning. Have I </span><em><span>ever</span></em> <em><span>once </span></em><span>given you the impression that I </span><em><span>wasn't</span></em><span> 'tired of your shit'?"</span></p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Crowley stared at the angel, dumbstruck, and then he snickered. Aziraphale using swears was always a treat, even if it was to scold him. Aziraphale smiled, his eyes softening. Crowley returned the smile with his own, crooked and sleepy. Maybe he'd still make it a week.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"’M glad you're back, Angel. Were you able to heal yourself or…?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I had a bit of help in that department," Aziraphale replied after a brief pause. Crowley nodded, not ready to ask details. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I should...see if she left for the airport, should I? Unless you think it might be better to give her space?" Crowley asked the last bit hopefully. He really wanted a nap.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I don't think it is wise to let this fester, dear," Aziraphale frowned, dashing Crowley's hopes. The angel passed him his ‘Please Boop’ note. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Go make it right," Aziraphale said. "Be charming and gentle and meet her terms. When you come back we can, perhaps, take a soak in that lovely bath of yours."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Crowley brightened somewhat at that prospect, squared his shoulders and prepared to take his boops.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He trudged back to the lift and leaned against the wall as it took him to the seventh floor. It really was good of the angel to forgive him. After what he had done, what he had said. He was lucky. Chances weren't good he'd be that lucky with Thea. Would Aziraphale still forgive him if Thea didn't?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He would. He loved Crowley. He said so. Fuck, he said so. Shit, that was yesterday. Felt like he had been awake for a year. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The door opened and he tripped out of the lift, weaving his way down the corridor, thinking about the angel's casual declaration of love. It rolled off Aziraphale's tongue so simply, as if it were obvious. As if he'd known for ages.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It figures that the angel would have his feelings all sorted out. Crowley wasn't great at self control and even worse at self reflection so maybe it made sense that attraction hit him like a sack of pianos. He blinked, adjusted his glasses. The corridor was longer than he remembered. He needed to get this done. Do whatever it took to make it right. Had to show the angel he was worth it. Worth all his bullshit. </span>
</p><p> </p><p><span>He knocked on the door. What was he going to say? </span><em><span>Sorry</span></em> <em><span>about</span></em> <em><span>that</span></em> <em><span>assault</span></em><span>. </span><em><span>Swear</span></em> <em><span>I'm</span></em> <em><span>safe</span></em> <em><span>as</span></em> <em><span>houses</span></em> <em><span>now</span></em><span>. Fuck, what a bloody shitshow. He shouldn't be doing this. He should leave a note. Or some flowers. He should go back upstairs and kiss the angel again. </span></p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Thea opened the door and for a second he thought she was going to slam the door in his face. She watched him warily. Crowley opened his mouth. Time to beg forgiveness.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I want to go kiss the angel," he blurted.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"What?" Thea exclaimed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Er. Wot?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>What?" </span>
  </em>
  <span>Thea looked incredibly confused. Crowley wobbled, trying to think.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Fuck! Right! The note!" he stuttered. He fished it out of his pocket and thrust it at her before turning into a snake and immediately passing out on the floor.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thanks again to my beta readers, Raechem and PinkPenguinParade.<br/>Thanks for reading. As always, comments and Kudos are appreciated. Chapter 7 is up (two chapters this week!.) Chapter 8 will be up next Thursday.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Fear and (Self) Loathing in London Soho</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>It is a long road back to better. Aziraphale takes over the lion share of working with Thea while Crowley tries to make amends.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This chapter kept trying to slide sideways on me but here it is. Plenty of angst and fluff, making things a bit better.</p><p>Beta'd by PinkPenguinParade, who continues to be my hero.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>This wasn't what I escaped for</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>If you could just hear my whispers</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I'm screaming under the waters</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You held me up on your shoulders</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>But I got caught in the tunnels</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I never came back to save you</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And you were waiting so faithful</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>But love is all that I have now</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I gave my blood just to find out</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Your tired heart that I buried</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Won't you ever forgive me</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <em>
    <span class="u">
      <span>Let me Love</span>
    </span>
    <span>-Archis</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Thea wasn’t sure what she was going to do when she saw Crowley again. She was even less sure about what the demon was going to do, which was a big part of the problem. Out of the various nightmare scenarios she had imagined in the last few hours, she wouldn't have thought up Crowley knocking on her door, blurting something about wanting to kiss Aziraphale, then throwing a piece of paper at her and turning into an unconscious snake.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> So, bonus points to the demon for defying conventions, I guess. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Thea’s immediate impulse was to squeak and slam the door. After a couple minutes she opened the door a crack to take a peek and the snake was still there, sprawled out on the floor. If this was a devious trick, it was definitely a weird one. Thea looked at the note but “Please Boop” only raised more questions.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey,” she whispered. “Hey. What the fuck are you doing?” </p><p> </p><p>Crowley didn’t move. She repeated the question a little louder. Nothing. She started to feel a little worried, and then angry that she was feeling worried.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey!” she snapped, clapping her hands loudly. “You can’t just terrorize me and then pass out looking pathetic and helpless and make me feel sorry for you!”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley <em>s</em><em>till </em> didn’t move. Thea cursed and stomped back into her studio, finding a paintbrush with a long handle. She returned to the hallway, still grumbling and gave Crowley a good poke with the bristles. <em> Crowley didn’t move </em> . Was he dead?  She gently tucked the ferrule under the snake’s chin to get a better look. Something was definitely really weird about this. Like, weirder than an unconscious-demon-snake should be. His little black tongue was limp but his sides moved with subtle breaths so, <em> alive </em>at least. But what was off?</p><p> </p><p>“Oh! Your eyes are closed!” she exclaimed out loud. Thea didn’t know a great deal about snakes but she knew they didn’t have eyelids. The Crowley-snake did though, damn it, that was messed up and she hated that it made him look cute.</p><p> </p><p>“You fucking cartoon,” she muttered, stepping over him and jogging up the stairwell to the 8th floor. Hopefully Aziraphale was still hanging around. She breathed a sigh of relief when the angel answered her frantic knocks.</p><p> </p><p>“Crowley’s sick or something” she gasped, out of breath. Maybe she shouldn’t have taken the stairs two at a time? She needed more exercise. Aziraphale looked worried so she explained. “He passed out outside my door. I can’t wake him up.”</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale made a concerned noise and <em> sank through the floor. </em> Thea gave an exasperated huff, and ran back down the stairs to find the angel gently scooping Crowley into his arms. He carried the snake into her apartment— <em> sure, why not— </em> speaking soft cooing words to him. Thea followed him in and went back to washing the dishes she’d abandoned in the sink when Crowley showed up. She watched Aziraphale gently lay the snake down on the couch with all the care due an injured animal and not a violent hell-spawned fuckhead.</p><p> </p><p>“What’s wrong with him?” Thea asked the angel, then tsked herself for sounding too invested and quickly added “You know, aside from everything?”</p><p> </p><p>“He’s completely exhausted, I’m afraid,” Aziraphale sighed, fussing with the length of the snake’s body, trying to figure out how to make him comfortable. He reached for the comfy blue throw folded across her chair, then thought better of it. He removed his jacket instead and used that to wrap Crowley in. <em> Can he get cold in this form? How much of a snake is he? Can he regulate his own heat? </em> No! She wasn’t going to find this interesting. She wasn’t going to ply Aziraphale with questions. She wasn’t going to open herself up to thinking about Crowley as anything other than a threat ever again.</p><p> </p><p>“Why does he have eyelids?” She blurted. <em> Shit </em>. Aziraphale looked confused by the question and Thea looked away, trying to look casual. She picked up a tea towel to dry a plate. “Snakes can’t close their eyes, right? So that’s...weird.”</p><p> </p><p>“Crowley isn’t a snake, my dear. He is a demon with a serpent form,” Aziraphale answered gently. “He has modified the form in a number of ways over the long years. Why, in Eden he was absolutely massive. He wouldn’t have fit on this couch!” He laughed as if that image was funny. A massive snake demon wasn’t funny. This little corn snake size was fine, thanks. </p><p> </p><p>He gave Crowley a fond look. “You know, I can’t recall when he started using the eyelids. He didn’t use the form often around me. He does a remarkable job speaking clearly considering this tongue and the absence of lips, but he still lisps a bit and it bothers him. The human form does make many things easier.” </p><p> </p><p>Thea could think of one thing human lips made easier and frowned at the memory of Crowley’s bizarre confession before passing out. <em> I want to go kiss the angel </em>. She had noticed how Crowley looked at the angel before and wondered if there was more going on. She had no clue if attraction and affection even mattered to a being after the first couple thousand years. As far as she knew though, he and Aziraphale were close friends. Thea hadn’t seen anything that overtly suggested they were a couple. </p><p> </p><p>So was Aziraphale in any danger here? Should she warn him? She should, right? She opened her mouth and closed it immediately. No. Not yet. Not without more information. Crowley might be firmly in her shit list but she wouldn’t out him without being sure it was right. There was a code. <em> I have your back, you dumb gay snake. I hope I don’t regret it. </em></p><p> </p><p>“I suspect that he manifested them to keep out the light. He’s always disliked bright light. Or perhaps to make facial expressions easier. He’s always been so expressive…” Aziraphale was still talking about the eyelids, wringing his hands. Thea wasn’t the only one flustered. </p><p> </p><p>“When will he wake up?” she asked. Aziraphale grimaced.</p><p> </p><p>“No telling, I’m afraid. It could be quite a while, to be honest, unless you wouldn’t mind…” he gestured between Crowley and Thea, and she understood he was suggesting she use her shiny new psychic booster cables on the demon.</p><p> </p><p> Aziraphale told her she had returned his powers and then some back at the flat when she was trying to heal him. It wasn’t what she was trying to do, but if she wasn’t a supernatural healer then being a supernatural battery seemed to be the next best thing. She shook her head. She wasn’t going to use her powers on Crowley, especially without consent, and she didn’t fancy the idea of getting that close. Aziraphale frowned, but nodded that he understood. Thea dried her hands and put the kettle on.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m a little wary to ask, my dear, but is his light still…?” Aziraphale’s voice was dripping with anxiety and he seemed to struggle with finishing the question. Thea glanced back at the shiny black mound wrapped in tan cloth. </p><p> </p><p>“I can’t see anything when he’s asleep,” she explained while she got a couple cups ready and fished a tin of tea out of her cupboard. Crowley had supplied the tea along with everything else, so she assumed it was an acceptable blend. “His light was green though, for the few seconds I saw him before he turned into <em> that </em>.” Aziraphale nodded quietly, but he seemed relieved. His shoulders relaxed a bit as he continued to watch the snake sleep with sad, pensive eyes. </p><p> </p><p>Thea puttered around the kitchen quietly, afraid to disturb his thoughts as she brewed and poured the tea. She brought it and a tin of shortbreads to the coffee table along with some milk and sugar. The table was already littered with spoons (manifested over the last few hours) so the angel could take his pick. Aziraphale thanked her and prepared his tea, taking a seat on the couch beside the slumbering lump. The air was thick with tension. It made Thea’s teeth ache.</p><p> </p><p>“We should paint him,” she proposed. Aziraphale quirked a bemused smile so she continued. “He put us through the wringer and he’s at our mercy. I have the paint and brushes right here. I’ll take pink if you want green?”</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale’s smile widened and he chuckled as he shook his head. “I don’t think so, my dear.”</p><p> </p><p>“Just me then,” Thea grinned. “He badly needs some colour.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m afraid I must insist he stay unpainted.”</p><p> </p><p>Thea gave the angel a considering look then put a cookie on a napkin and slowly slid it across the table toward him. “How about now?” she smirked. Aziraphale actually laughed.</p><p> </p><p>“My dear, I am shocked that you would attempt to <em> bribe </em> an angel of the Lord,” he grinned. “And with a single biscuit, no less.”</p><p> </p><p>“He’s a demon, right? As an angel of the Lord, shouldn’t you want to do it for free?”</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale’s grin slipped and the tension returned to his eyes, his shoulders, the very air in the room. There was history there. Of course there was. Thea was so clumsy.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m sorry,” she muttered. “I should have known better. Obviously this isn’t some stereotypical angel versus demon situation.”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s quite all right, Thea,” Aziraphale assured her, but the tension didn’t subside. “Honestly, I would have held fast to the pretense of us being merely hereditary enemies as little as a few months ago. A complete lie, of course, but I happily hid behind it for centuries. Crowley deserved better treatment from me.”</p><p> </p><p>Thea thought about that, and it clashed hard against her defenses at first. She remembered how she had liked Crowley from the moment he agreed not to tell Lynn about her profanity-laden tantrum after manifesting another fucking spoon out of the air. She had liked Crowley right up until he and that yellow light grabbed her and tore her expectations and trust to shreds. She wasn’t going to actually paint him. It had been a dumb joke, an attempt to cut the tension because for a split second she had forgotten that Crowley was dangerous.</p><p> </p><p>“Will you ever forgive him, do you suppose?” Aziraphale asked quietly. </p><p> </p><p>“Probably,” Thea answered honestly. “But not today.”</p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p> </p><p>It took five days for Crowley to finally wake, which Aziraphale thought fortunate. It wasn’t nearly as long as he feared the demon would sleep and it gave him time to work with Thea and help her through some of her trauma.  Aziraphale made sure the demon was warm and comfortable and never alone. This usually meant that Aziraphale was wearing Crowley draped around the back of his neck under the collar of his duster. The demon’s sweet little head hung over his heart. There had been a couple times when the angel had returned to the bookshop, donning his winter kit and been suddenly terrified that he’d smothered the poor creature under all that heavy wool, but Crowley seemed warm and content and snoozed on. </p><p> </p><p>At night he would sit and read on Thea's couch. She had admitted to sleeping poorly the first night, worried Crowley would wake, become confused and attack her again. Aziraphale’s presence in the sitting room (with the sleeping demon in a ball of towels on his lap) seemed to calm her. After a couple nights she felt brave enough to let him return to Crowley’s flat, so long as he promised to keep Crowley in sight at all times.</p><p> </p><p>The fifth day had been quite pleasant. Thea had baked muffins and made coffee while Aziraphale continued his instruction on the history of Heaven and Hell. At times he thought she might even have been listening. He accepted the coffee from her with a nod of thanks and was surprised when he felt Crowley lift his head, his tongue flicking toward the steaming mug. A second later the snake sneezed, a slight wheezing hiss, as his topaz eyes popped open and suddenly he flexed and ended up rolling down the length of Aziraphale’s arm and dropping to the floor with a startled cry of “Nnngel!” </p><p> </p><p>“I’m terribly sorry, dear boy,” Aziraphale quickly set the cup down and scooped the floundering snake off the floor, returning him to the spot on his neck where he’d slept most of the week. Crowley looked insulted. “Angel, Wot are you doing?”  Aziraphale felt utterly foolish and quickly removed Crowley from his person, letting him slide back to the floor. He was glad his friend was finally awake, but did miss the subtle weight of him over his heart.</p><p> </p><p>Now that Crowley was awake, the messy business of reconciling was upon them. Aziraphale gave Thea an encouraging smile when she met his gaze, trying to look casual as she crossed the room away from Crowley. The demon returned to human form, yawning, and only seemed to notice his surroundings after he had stolen a sip of the angel’s coffee. </p><p> </p><p>“Uh,” he winced, a sad look of guilt settling on his angular face. Aziraphale could see it despite the dark glasses. </p><p> </p><p>“I liked him better when he fit in the kitty carrier,” Thea grumbled, and well, that seemed to give Crowley something else to think about.</p><p> </p><p>“You put me in a <em> wot </em>?” he demanded. Aziraphale gave Thea a cold look. He thought it had been rather obvious that was supposed to stay between them.</p><p> </p><p>“We were experimenting with holy water that day,” he explained. “I couldn’t very well risk you waking up and accidentally getting into it, now could I? You were perfectly comfortable in there with a little heating pad and a t— ” he’d said too much and looked away, but the dashed demon caught on.</p><p> </p><p>“And aaaaa?”</p><p> </p><p>“And a toy mouse,” Aziraphale replied, feeling contrite. Crowley’s jaw dropped.  “Don’t look at me like that. It came with the carrier and you looked quite happy with it.”</p><p> </p><p>“How could I be happy with it? I was bloody asleep!” Crowley snapped. Honestly, the dear was entirely focused on the wrong thing. </p><p> </p><p>“You were cuddling it,” Thea chirped, and Aziraphale started to feel the first pang of a headache coming on. “I can show you the pictures if you don’t believe us,” she added defiantly. <em> Yes. Definitely a headache </em>. Crowley looked between the two of them and Aziraphale said a silent prayer of thanks when the demon merely thrust his hands into his pockets and sulked. </p><p> </p><p>“I am happy you are awake,” Aziraphale whispered, stepping closer to Crowley. “You gave us a fright when you dropped in the hallway. Are you sure you’re feeling all right?”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley shrugged and wouldn’t meet his gaze. “Are you worried about the pictures she took?” Aziraphale fretted. “I could delete them, I suppose, but they made her happy and honestly, I had talked her down from painting you pink, so—”</p><p> </p><p>“She can keep ‘em,” Crowley conceded. “If they...if they help.” </p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale smiled warmly at him. This was his Crowley. The reluctant, uncomfortable, sweet thing.</p><p> </p><p>“Right, well. Best get on with your apologies then,” Aziraphale patted his arm. Crowley immediately stiffened, his mouth tightening in a grimace of stress. Aziraphale soldiered on, turning to address Thea. “Should I leave you two alone, or should I stay?”</p><p> </p><p>“You should absolutely <em> not </em>leave me alone with him,” Thea declared, her arms crossed over her chest. Crowley’s cringe was so minute Aziraphale almost missed it. He gave the demon’s bicep another quick pat and returned to his seat with his coffee. </p><p> </p><p>Crowley continued to stand in place, hands in his pockets and yet still managing to fidget. Aziraphale gripped his coffee mug with both hands to keep from fidgeting himself. Thea stared at Crowley. Crowley stared at the floor. Aziraphale wished very much to be somewhere else.</p><p> </p><p>“Uh, how did the holy water experiment go?” Crowley asked finally. Aziraphale seized this conversational lifeline with gratitude.</p><p> </p><p>“No adverse reaction at all,” he beamed. “Whatever demonic traits she may have developed do not seem to make her vulnerable to holy water at least. Clearly the angelic side is stronger.”</p><p> </p><p>“Humans aren’t vulnerable to holy water either,” Thea reminded him. “Just demons, right?” She said the last bit with a pointed glare. Crowley cleared his throat.</p><p> </p><p>“You got rid of it all, eh?” Crowley jested with a nervous smile. Aziraphale didn’t dignify that with an answer. A prickly silence fell over the room. Thea sighed in frustration.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, well, as scintillating as this is, I have homework to do so—” She returned to her canvas. The swirls of white and cream paint had given way to dark violet, blue and black. Aziraphale hadn’t looked at the canvas, she kept it facing away from the sitting room, but her smock had picked up quite a lot of transfer. She dipped her brush and made an angry slash across the canvas.</p><p> Crowley looked at him helplessly. Honestly, why was this so difficult? Aziraphale picked up his legal pad of notes, flipped to a fresh page and hastily scrawled “I’M SORRY” on it before showing it to Crowley with one hand and pointing sternly at Thea with the other.</p><p> </p><p>“Obviously, I’m sorry!” Crowley spat, glaring at him now. “That hardly covers it though, does it? What the hell good is ‘I’m sorry’ in the face of all this shit!”</p><p> </p><p>“It would at least be an indication that you realize you were wrong,” Thea pointed out. Crowley winced again. “<em> Do </em> you realize that?” she snapped. “Because it was fucked up, Crowley.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, <em> I’m </em>fucked up,” he muttered. “It was a shit thing to do. I panicked and I…” he trailed off making a number of uncomfortable noises. “I dunno what to say now. It won’t happen again.”</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. It was all so stressful and awkward, but at least they were speaking.</p><p> </p><p>“Um,” Crowley looked so uncomfortable, the poor dear. “Should I go? Do you want me to go?”</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale glanced at the girl. If she told Crowley to go, he’d no doubt have to chase the demon down to keep him from drinking all the contents of his upstairs bar and sleeping away the next few months. </p><p> </p><p>A spoon fell directly on the demon’s head, knocking his glasses askew. Crowley swore under his breath but said nothing else about it. Thea hadn’t seemed to notice. She was looking at her canvas, thinking. Crowley edged the spoon away with his foot and glanced at the ceiling as if worried another might fall. Aziraphale patted the seat beside him on the couch, and Crowley gave him a quick nervous smile but shook his head. Aziraphale frowned and waited for Thea’s answer. </p><p> </p><p>“How many do I get,” she asked finally, wiping her hands on a paint stained towel. Crowley arched an eyebrow in question and she fished his little note out of her pocket and held it up. “Please boop'. How many do I get?”</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale hid a smile. Thea looked stern, angry, but it had to mean something that she was leveraging her upset to negotiate additional nose boops. Crowley seemed to have forgotten about the note and was now oozing back towards the door. </p><p> </p><p>“Er,” he waffled. “I mean, I had only thought you’d do it once.”</p><p> </p><p>“Once,” Thea scoffed. “You barged in here and dragged me around by my hair!”</p><p> </p><p>“Right, um. Sorry,” Crowley had his hands up in a placating manner, and Aziraphale felt he had truly lost this conversation. “Do...um. Does it matter? The…” Crowley gestured toward the note. </p><p> </p><p>“It might,” Thea shrugged. “I’m certainly not going to do it any time soon, but I might collect.”</p><p> </p><p>Then came a back and forth that made Aziraphale feel like he was watching a tennis match. It gave him a crick in his neck.</p><p> </p><p>“Erm...two?”</p><p> </p><p>“Six,” Thea countered. </p><p> </p><p>“Four.”</p><p> </p><p>“Ten.”</p><p> </p><p>“You’re supposed to say a lower number!”</p><p> </p><p>“But I didn’t. I said ten.”</p><p> </p><p>“You want to boop me ten bloody times?”</p><p> </p><p>Thea didn’t answer. She looked back at the note and hesitated. Aziraphale sighed. She’d have to be willing to be close enough to Crowley to touch him. </p><p> </p><p>“Y...yeeaah all right,” Crowley drawled, his voice still a little high. He ran his hand through his hair and gave the spoon on the floor a little sheepish kick. “I could do ten, if it would help.”</p><p> </p><p>Lord, Aziraphale loved him.</p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p> </p><p>If there was any good to come of Crowley's meltdown it was that Thea was now closer with Aziraphale. Crowley was glad for that part, although she still tended to tune out any conversation that drifted too far into the angelic. Crowley was no doubt supposed to be filling in the blanks when it came to Below but he was rarely around. </p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale was doing a bang up job of everything so far and Crowley made everything sticky and stressful when he was hanging around so he opted to help by running errands for them both, keeping them as comfortable as possible and we'll stocked in art supplies, pastries, chocolates, wine, cheese.</p><p> </p><p>Thea mostly ignored him, and Crowley made sure to keep at least half a room between them at all times. He had once tried to pass her a brush she had dropped and she had flinched away from him, glaring, and setting off a fresh round of fussing from Aziraphale. Crowley had slunk off and pretended to tend to her plants, watching the two of them from the corner of his eye. The angel always had a comforting way about him, but it was going to take time to earn back Thea's trust. From then on Crowley kept his distance, as he should have done from the beginning. He'd warned Aziraphale about this. This is why he steered clear of humans. Only a matter of time before he lost his damn mind and hurt someone. Thea had been lucky all he had done was scare her. Hell knew, he was capable of far worse.</p><p> </p><p>So a few weeks passed with Aziraphale doing all the heavy lifting with Thea's training while Crowley blended into the scenery.</p><p> </p><p>Things between him and Aziraphale had been similarly set back. The angel was still kind and warm and gentle, and his kisses were wet and languid but the first time Crowley tried to move things along in a carnal sense, Aziraphale gently rebuffed him. He kept asking Crowley if he was <em> all right, if he was sure, </em> (as if the raging erection weren’t a dead giveaway). Crowley had been quite adamant about what he wanted, tried a couple times to get what he wanted into his mouth in fact, but Aziraphale kept being coy. After all the joyful flirting and hungry sexual appetite Aziraphale had shown before the lightning storm, this leisurely pace felt like a clear message: “You go too fast for me, Crowley.”</p><p> </p><p>So he slowed down, gone so slow he thought he was going backwards. He wanted a chance to show Aziraphale he’d be good to him if he let him. He’d show him all the pleasure his body was capable if he’d let him. He’d make putting up with Crowley worth it somehow. But Aziraphale wouldn’t let him. His hands were captured, redirected north, held or kissed, but never allowed to roam where Crowley wanted.</p><p> </p><p>They would go back to kissing and petting each other—above the waist—until they tired of kissing (Aziraphale) or became too insistent with their whimpering (Crowley), and then the angel would politely excuse himself and go. “Too soon I think, dear” he’d whisper with a kiss. “Sleep well”.  Those nights Crowley would either take hours to fall asleep, or he’d pass out quickly after hate-fucking his fist, swearing obscenities at himself until he came sobbing.</p><p> </p><p>It tended towards the latter this week. He was already toying with a new fantasy where the angel would chain him to a wall and whip him while listing all the ways he was vile and unworthy until Crowley was shaking, raw and begging. Then, and only then, Aziraphale would fuck him against the wall, rough and savage. He wanted that badly, wanted the angel to beat him and fuck the evil out until he was finally safe.</p><p> </p><p>He moaned into the angel’s mouth. Shit, he shouldn’t be thinking about this. He was getting ahead of himself. </p><p> </p><p>They were in his bed, Aziraphale’s tongue down his throat while Crowley curled his fingers through silky blonde hair. He was hard and straining uncomfortably against his tight jeans, trying desperately to keep his hips perfectly still as they kissed. He tried to think unsexy thoughts (a muddy Bentley, taxes, Prince Charles), and didn’t dare let his grasping clammy hands drift any lower than the angel’s shoulders. They definitely couldn’t be trusted. Their restricted airspace had been steadily drifting north every night and by next week he’d be unwilling to risk touching Aziraphale at all.</p><p> </p><p>Unfortunately for Crowley, Aziraphale made excellent use of the touch he allowed himself. He dragged his blunt teeth along Crowley’s jawbone a second before he tugged a handful of red hair and Crowley cried out in pleasure. <em> Shit. Oh no. </em> Crowley tried to wiggle out of the grasp when suddenly Aziraphale broke their unspoken north-of-the-belt rule and cupped the demon’s arse firmly, his fingers questing along the cleft through Crowley’s jeans. </p><p> </p><p>“Amber!” Crowley yelped, his heart pounding and his cock screaming against its denim prison. Aziraphale made a soft apologetic noise and brought his hand back up to Crowley’s shoulder but the damage was done and Crowley was close-so-close-too-close.</p><p> </p><p>“You gotta go, Angel,” Crowley whined through gritted teeth. Aziraphale rested his head on the pillow beside him, his eyes surprised.</p><p> </p><p>“Are you all right? Did I do something wrong?” Aziraphale asked, suddenly worried. </p><p> </p><p>“No no,” Crowley assured him, hoping his voice wasn’t as squeaky as it sounded in his ears. “You did everything really right! I mean it. Felt just...<em> too </em> good.”</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale was back to looking confused and Crowley groaned at the effort of keeping perfectly still.</p><p> </p><p>“Forgive me, my dear, but if I didn’t do anything wrong why did you ask me to slow down? Why do you want me to leave.”</p><p> </p><p>“Because I’m too fucking riled up, you madman!” Crowley hissed through clenched teeth, gesturing sharply toward his erection. “I need you to go so I can deal with this myself!” </p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale’s eyes widened as he glanced at the bulge in Crowley’s pants. The demon was happy that he didn’t look embarrassed or upset, but the naked curiosity and lack of leaving was problematic. </p><p> </p><p>“How do you mean to ‘deal with it’?” Aziraphale whispered. What, was he afraid the orchid would hear him? That fucker was already thoroughly traumatized by what it had seen in this room.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m going to— <em> fuck </em>, Aziraphale, have you never had a wank before?” He grumbled, his cheeks flushed. Knowing what he did about the angel, he probably hadn’t.</p><p> </p><p>“Can I...watch?” Aziraphale asked. Crowley choked at the request and rolled over so he was facing away from the angel. “No!”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh,” the angel sounded disappointed. “May I...ask why not? I mean, surely we’ve done more—”</p><p> </p><p>“I’d enjoy it too much,” Crowley answered quietly, and it was the first time he let any of the rawness he was feeling out into his voice. </p><p> </p><p>“I think I understand,” Aziraphale replied, and it sounded like he might. “Do you still want me to leave, dear?” Crowley bit his lip, relishing the body heat behind him and shook his head. He felt Aziraphale settle back down on the pillow behind him. “May I still speak to you, or would you like me to be quiet for a while?” The thoughtfulness of the question brought tears to Crowley’s eyes and he squeezed them shut to slow the flow. “You can talk,” he whispered.</p><p> </p><p>“You deserve to enjoy yourself, Crowley, if you want to,” Aziraphale said immediately. </p><p> </p><p>“I don’t,” Crowley snapped just as quickly.</p><p> </p><p>“Please look at me, my love,” Aziraphale pleaded, and Crowley’s eyes snapped open in shock at the new term of endearment. He didn’t move. He hardly dared to breathe.</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t deserve <em> that </em>either,” he growled. "You don't want me anyway, Aziraphale. You always go when I get too needy, so just go."</p><p> </p><p>“Hmm,” Aziraphale tucked his head in the crook of Crowley’s neck. “I’m sorry, dear. May I touch you?” Crowley bit his lip again but nodded. Aziraphale gently spooned him, wrapping warm arms around Crowley’s waist. The softness squeezed more silent tears from his eyes. "I thought, perhaps you needed more time, darling. I never meant for you to feel unwanted. I want you so much in every way."</p><p> </p><p>"You're far too clever for that to be true, Aziraphale," Crowley mumbled dryly.</p><p> </p><p>“How long will you punish yourself this time?” Aziraphale whispered into his hair. “How long until you let yourself feel something good again?” Crowley let out a strangled moan. There was no answer. He’d always be what he was. He’d never be able to scour the stain from his soul. And the truth of it was, he had never <em> let </em> himself feel anything good. He had felt it all, <em> despite </em> himself and the ugliness of his nature. Aziraphale was something too good <em> not to </em> feel. Crowley had just been too weak to do what he should to protect Aziraphale from himself. He still was.</p><p> </p><p>“Crowely?” Was Aziraphale still waiting for an answer? Crowley shook his head and sighed. Aziraphale hugged his shoulders. “My dear, You aren’t the things you say you are. You never were.”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s a lot of horseshit, that is,” Crowley growled. “You didn’t see it. I grabbed that girl by the back of the neck and dragged her along while she screamed and cried. I’ve tried to tell you, Aziraphale. I’ve warned you. I am evil. <em> All </em> demons are. ”</p><p> </p><p>‘What you did was horrible, Crowley. It was violent and cruel, and I won’t say it wasn’t,” Aziraphale murmured gently, and Crowley’s heart broke even as he bathed in the condemnation of the angel’s words.</p><p> </p><p>“You are more than what you did to Thea, Crowley,” Azriaphale kissed him lightly behind his ear. “You weren’t yourself, darling. I forgive you, and so will she.”</p><p> </p><p>“No,” Crowley wept. “No no no. I thought you were finally starting to understand! <em> I’m not safe </em>!”</p><p> </p><p>“You will never be safe until you heal, my dear,” Aziraphale stated firmly. “And I’m afraid you won’t heal until you accept some rather painful and terrible facts.”</p><p> </p><p>This seemed more like Crowley's speed. Not the healing bit, (that was ridiculous tripe) but the painful and terrible facts part seemed right up his alley right now. He wriggled so that Aziraphale would release him, and then rolled over to look at him expectantly. Let it happen. See if the angel would be strong enough to bring down the sword.</p><p> </p><p>“Alright, hit me with these 'painful facts', Angel,” Crowley challenged with a hiss. “Hit me. Bloody me. Skin me alive and build me back up from bones.<em> ” </em> He stared into wide blue eyes and dared the angel not to turn away. After a moment, Aziraphale nodded, and Crowley was terrified and elated.</p><p> </p><p>“Alright, Crowley," Aziraphale gently cupped the demon's cheek in his palm. "This will not be easy for you to hear."</p><p> </p><p>"Don't back out on me now, Angel," he hissed.</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale huffed. "I will do this if you promise me you will not leave until I have said everything I have to say. You won’t like it, but you need to hear it.”</p><p> </p><p>Now Crowley was suspicious. This didn’t sound like Aziraphale.  "Sounds dodgy, Angel. Are you trying to pull one over on me?" Aziraphale made an innocent face. He definitely was. Crowley rolled his eyes and sat up, fetching his glasses from the bedside table where Aziraphale had flung them. Aziraphale uttered an antiquated curse (what was that, Old Germanic?) and scurried to shut the bedroom door, blocking Crowley's escape.</p><p> </p><p>"You deserve good things, Crowley," the angel proclaimed. </p><p> </p><p>"It <em> was </em> a trap. I fucking <em> knew it!" </em></p><p> </p><p>"You deserve good things because you are good,” Aziraphale continued. </p><p> </p><p>"Out of the way, Angel," he hissed. "You're welcome to go on being a bellend, but I don't have to listen to it."</p><p> </p><p>"You are kind, and lovely, Crowley. You have saved me more times than I care to count," Aziraphale said, his voice soft. He opened his arms to Crowley in invitation of an embrace. Crowley made a show of checking his watch, oozing impatience. </p><p> </p><p>"Crowley, my dear, you made Thea the most beautiful studio."</p><p> </p><p>"And fucked everything the next day," Crowley snapped. </p><p> </p><p>"And you are tormented by that now because you care. You care deeply, Crowley. I know you do."</p><p> </p><p>This was stupid. Crowley had to get out of here. He gave Aziraphale his ugliest snarl and stomped toward the door. Aziraphale wrapped him in his arms, ignoring Crowley's attempt to swipe at the doorknob behind him. "I'm not hugging you, you imbecile. I'm trying to get to the door."</p><p> </p><p>"I will love you until the sun burns the Earth away, Crowley," Aziraphale murmured in his ear and just like that all the fight went out of the demon. Crowley's breath left him as though he'd been punched and his thin legs weakened. Aziraphale tightened his arms around the demon and gently walked him back to the bed.</p><p> </p><p>"Angel," Crowley croaked. "Please don't lead me on like this. It's too much."</p><p> </p><p>"You have my heart, Crowley," Aziraphale smiled, sitting beside him. “I'm yours as long as you want me." Crowley gritted his teeth again and looked away. "I know you're hurting, my love. I'll let you go do whatever you need to do, but I am here—I'll always be here—when you are ready to have me."</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale took his hand and kissed his bony knuckles with his soft warm lips. He smiled with his beautiful blue eyes and squeezed his hand. And then he let him go, his fingers interlaced on his lap as he waited for Crowley to decide what he needed. </p><p> </p><p>The cunning fucking bastard. </p><p> </p><p>"I wanted you to tell me I'm vile and evil," he grumbled. "I wanted you to smite me."</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale grabbed him in a tight hug. Crowley let him, but refused to return the embrace.</p><p> </p><p>"Crowley, <em> ‘smite’ </em> has some very serious connotations. I'd never send you back to Hell. They would destroy you." Crowley shrugged, embarrassed. As badly as he felt, he didn't want <em> that </em>. Not yet. </p><p> </p><p>"Why do you want me to say these terrible things, my dear?"</p><p> </p><p>Crowley bit his tongue to keep the truth from spilling out with all the dread in his shriveled rotten apple of a heart. He bit hard, his chest heaving with the colossal effort to keep his ugly fear hidden. Aziraphale smiled with sad encouragement and he swiftly turned away.</p><p> </p><p>"Tell me," he urged. "Why do these lies mean so much to you?"</p><p> </p><p>"Angel, I thhhhink—" Crowley's voice came out as a hissing whine, barbed and jagged, ripping out of his throat. "It'sss the only way I can keep you in...in thhhe end...once you finally sssee what I am."</p><p> </p><p>And then it was out. Crowley cried and told the angel his dark fantasy, the way Aziraphale would eventually inevitably realize Crowley had no place by his side. He'd never survive being abandoned by Aziraphale but if he'd only please keep him, use him, defile and subjugate him. It would be all right, it would be enough just to stay in his presence.</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale was quiet for a long time after Crowley finally stopped speaking. The demon hung his head, watching as the tears slid under his useless glasses and fell in silver drops onto his lap. He felt the bed move beside him as Aziraphale stood up, saw the pale shape of him kneel beside his knee. </p><p> </p><p>"Crowley," Aziraphale's voice was raw with emotion. Crowley had hurt him. After everything he put Thea through, blaming her for hurting Aziraphale.</p><p> </p><p>"I won't abandon you, my dear, I promise it, and someday I hope you will believe it. As for this fantasy of yours," Crowley winced, humiliated. "Well, I suppose there are aspects of it that…" Aziraphale trailed off, clearing his throat. </p><p> </p><p>That was odd. He didn't <em> sound </em> hurt. More embarrassed. Crowley risked a glance at Aziraphale then found himself staring at the coy smile and blown pupils. "The idea of chaining you up, all pink and flushed from a bit of this and that. Of making love to you against the wall…" Aziraphale's pink tongue darted out, wetting his plump lips as he glanced at his wall as though picturing it. Crowley's breath caught in his throat and Aziraphale's gaze returned to him.</p><p> </p><p>"I won't say those horrible things, Crowley. I could never be that good of a liar. Instead, I would tie you down with silk scarves, well within your power to shred but I would see to it that you didn’t want to," he whispered, taking Crowley's hand once more.</p><p> </p><p>Crowley swallowed a whimper. The angel mistook the sound for fear and shushed him, gently kissing his palm. "I would surround you with soft pillows and softer smells. I would recite poetry into your skin with my kisses. I would bring you to release over and over again until you reached for me with your beautiful ebony wings. I would spend weeks memorizing every feather, smoothing them into place in my soul. I'd spend an eternity worshiping you until you until finally began to see yourself as I do."</p><p> </p><p>Crowley whined, and Aziraphale shushed him again, placing a soft kiss to the inside of his wrist this time. Crowley tried to shift away, his renewed erection weeping into his pants, threatening to soak through his trousers.</p><p> </p><p>"Yes, you'll whine, and yell and call me all sorts of names while you try to deny the truth. I understand, my love. Heaven may not be Hell, but I have felt the weight of their judgement for millennia. Being imperfect might as well be a sin," Aziraphale sighed rubbing his soft cheek against Crowley's palm. Crowley curled his fingers enough to cup the angel's cheek, barely able to trace this thumb over his beautiful lips.</p><p> </p><p>"You are perfect, Angel," he promised. </p><p> </p><p>"They told me often enough how unworthy I was," Aziraphale murmured. "It wasn't nearly what you faced, my dear, I know that, so when you rebel against my kindness I will understand why. And I will reassure you that you are good, and strong, and beautiful."</p><p> </p><p>"Shiiit," Crowley groaned. </p><p> </p><p>“My darling, if it were up to me<em> , </em> ” Aziraphale continued, trailing light kisses slowly up the inside of Crowley’s arm wrist to elbow. “I would answer every moan with ‘I love you’, every hiss and sigh with ‘I adore you’. I would say it in every language, in every way until you stop resisting me. And then I would bury myself inside you so deeply you would never have to fear losing me. You would know I’m yours until time stops. I will tell you I love you and <em> you </em>, my dark, sweet, beautiful, kind dear, will finally love yourself.”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley was nearly panting now, his tongue ill-fitting in his mouth.  “That...is a very nice...fantasy, Angel,” he whispered. “And if you wouldn’t mind heading out, I’ll get started on loving myself right away.”</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale smirked. “That isn’t what I meant.”</p><p> </p><p>“Baby steps, Angel,” Crowley grinned.</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale smiled back, gently running his hands down either side of Crowley’s thin hips. “I think my suggestion is an excellent compromise, really,” he insisted. Crowley watched neat manicured fingers stroke down the top of his black clad thighs. “Before all the self-flagellation you did mention an interest in being immobilized on this bed, and now you suggest chaining you to a wall,” he tutted, his lips pursed in a mock consideration. Crowley wanted to bite those lips. “We could meet in the middle, say...padded handcuffs?” Crowley’s eyes went wide as Aziraphale summoned a pair of golden cuffs, lined in soft patterned cotton. He rolled his eyes when he noticed what the pattern was.</p><p> </p><p>“I keep telling you to stop it with all the tartan,” he groaned as Aziraphale rose slightly to kiss him.</p><p> </p><p>“And I keep telling <em> you </em>,” Aziraphale grinned against his lips, “it’s stylish.”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley snapped and the tartan was replaced with black.</p><p> </p><p>Then <em> Aziraphale </em> snapped and they were snug around Crowley’s wrists.</p><p> </p><p>“Angel, we really need to talk about where all this kinky shit is coming fro—mmph!”</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale kissed him deeply, pressing him back down onto the bed. He cupped Crowley’s neck with one hand, the other threading through his short red hair. </p><p> </p><p>“Have I told you how much I adore this haircut on you, Crowley dear?” Aziraphale cooed, mussing up Crowley’s locks with his blunt fingers, lightly scratching along Crowley’s scalp and making him hiss in pleasure. “It suits you so well, so handsome. I love that your neck and ears are bared, ready for my mouth,” Aziraphale kissed Crowley’s throat, lightly bit an earlobe. “But it is long on the top so I can-” the angel pulled his head back with a fistful of red hair. </p><p> </p><p>“Ah! An—Angel, Fuck!”</p><p> </p><p>“Do you still want the wall, darling?” Aziraphale whispered in his ear, following his question with a series of soft licks that sent Crowley into delirium.</p><p> </p><p>“Nnnggg”</p><p> </p><p>“Will the bed suffice, at least for tonight?” The sunglasses were being removed. He heard them hit the wall.</p><p> </p><p>“Wot?”</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale chuckled, pressing a light kiss to Crowley’s lips. When Crowley lifted his head to chase his mouth, the angel kissed him again, harder. Crowley sighed, opening his mouth to the kiss as he looped his bound wrists over Aziraphale’s shoulders to hold him in place. His hands pressed into the angel’s back, but Aziraphale’s hands were free to roam. One stayed firmly twisted in Crowley’s hair, lightly tugging while the other stroked down the front of his chest. Crowley felt the deft fingers slide under his henley, inching back up until—</p><p> </p><p>“Haaahh!”</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale teased his nipple with the pads of two fingers, pressing and flicking until it was hard before moving on to a gentle pinch and twist. Crowley’s hips left the mattress for a moment as he thrust up, trying to find something to grind against.</p><p> </p><p>“I love the sounds you make, dear,” Aziraphale told him. “So beautiful, so gorgeous. Tell me, darling. What do you want me to do next?”</p><p> </p><p>"I…" Crowley opened his eyes, looking up at the ceiling as Aziraphale pressed kisses to his jaw, his neck. His cock twitched in his jeans again, demanding attention. </p><p> </p><p>"Tell me," Aziraphale sighed, nuzzling against Crowley's hair. </p><p> </p><p>"I'm…" Crowley closed his eyes, he didn't want to think anymore. He just wanted to feel Aziraphale's breath on his skin. He wanted to come, he wanted to sleep, but most of all he wanted to stop feeling so damn low.</p><p> </p><p>"I'm sorry," he choked. He felt Aziraphale freeze, taking his hot mouth off Crowley's skin. </p><p> </p><p>"Crowley?" The angel held him softly. "Oh, my dear."</p><p> </p><p>Crowley rolled towards Aziraphale, clinging to him, silently begging him not to go. He sobbed in relief when Aziraphale embraced him.</p><p> </p><p>"I'm here, my dear heart," he whispered into Crowley's hair as the demon wailed against his chest. It was at least several decades of fear and pain, clawing its way out of the cavity of his chest. </p><p> </p><p>"I love you, my darling, I promise you I do," </p><p> </p><p>It was just too gentle. Too kind. Crowley sobbed out another century's worth of torment before he was granted the mercy of sleep.</p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p> </p><p>He woke in stages. The first sense to return was scent, as it always was. The unique mix of tea, paper, and longing that he always tasted around Aziraphale. Then came the body heat against his chest and hands. He curled into it. He sensed the mattress move under him, a warm hand sweeping across his cheek. He heard the quiet contented hum of a sigh, felt the warm press of lips against the bridge of his nose. </p><p> </p><p>He felt the scratchiness of his throat, a dry, thick feeling of dehydration. He felt the dull throb in his temples that came after a long night of bawling your guts out.</p><p> </p><p>And he felt...better. <em> Best not tell the angel </em>. He’d get ideas, start calling around for a therapist. Crowley had actually tried therapy once in the 80's as half a lark. Poor man was probably never the same. Crowley’s lips curled up in a smile.</p><p> </p><p>“Good morning, dear,” Aziraphale whispered. “How do you feel?”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley made an indistinct noise. He squinted a bit as he finally opened his eyes. They were both still on their sides, curled up facing each other in the same position Crowley had fallen asleep but evidently Aziraphale had snapped them both into some more comfortable pyjamas and summoned a light blanket over them. </p><p> </p><p>“Thirsty,” he croaked, and immediately cringed at how wretched he sounded. He rolled over (with herculean effort) and sat up, grateful to only be a little lightheaded. He did a ten count in his head before he attempted standing. He stretched his long limbs, popping several joints back into place, then snapped himself into a proper outfit, black henley with his favourite grey tie, black jeans that might as well be painted on. Comfy jacket and his glasses. It was a Crowley classic, and it made him feel more himself. Only then did he turn back to Aziraphale with his lopsided smile.</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale was in a cream and blue nightshirt (complete with cap, honest to Satan, the git) and he seemed to be content to laze about in bed, which was unlike him. He was giving Crowley that look. The one that said he wanted to discuss something and wouldn’t be put off. Crowley made for the door.</p><p> </p><p>“Coffee, angel? Or I could put the kettle on if you rather?”</p><p> </p><p>“Actually, I was wondering if perhaps we shouldn’t talk about—”</p><p> </p><p>“Nope!” Crowley interrupted opening the door and stalking into the hall. He barely made it a step before he remembered that there were any number of issues surrounding them that Aziraphale may have been thinking about all night while not sleeping. Crowley poked his head back in the room. “Sorry, Angel. Talk about wot?”</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale looked relieved he’d come back. “Shouldn’t we discuss what happened last night? All the —”</p><p> </p><p>“Nope!” Crowley blurted again, trying to soften it with a wink the angel probably couldn’t see and a couple finger guns that he’d probably not understand before hurrying down the hall where he could pretend to be out of earshot. The kitchen was well enough stocked. He pulled out some eggs and a rasher of bacon and started warming the stove while he prepared the coffee maker and started the kettle. This was the first morning of things starting to get better.</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale ate breakfast and by some miracle, didn’t press Crowley about the night before. When the angel went downstairs to work with Thea, Crowley went shopping for supplies. He was gone an hour before his mobile chirped with a text from Thea. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Az wants pears. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Crowley stared at the message, feeling his heart do something weird. Pears weren't likely an emergency. It meant something that she reached out, didn't it? He started a message back, decided it was too many sentences and deleted it. Tried again.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Pears. Got it. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>He hadn’t gotten to the grocer yet, but added pears to the list and went about his day.</p><p> </p><p>It was another two hours before his phone chirped again.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Why do I need to know angelic spheres? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Crowley laughed. Aziraphale was clearly in a mood. It was obviously a very good day for Crowley to be out running errands. The weather was fair and for once, not too wet. And he didn’t have to listen to a bloody lecture on <em>De</em> <em>Coelesti</em> <em>Hierarchia</em>. Good day. Great day. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Dunno. Not my area of expertise, You have my sympathy. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Crowley had just gotten back from his last stop--Aziraphale had asked him to check on the shop, collect his mail and messages from the answerphone and also collect a few (14!) books for him. He sorted out the pears and book bags from the rest of the shopping and sent the latter up to his flat with a snap when his phone chirped again.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Apparently there is a written test!  Just in case you’re wondering why I’m drunk later. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Jesus, Angel,” he laughed, shaking his head.  He looped the bookbags over his arm, and took the pears in his other hand and made his way to Thea’s flat. </p><p> </p><p>“I’m just saying that it sounds to me like the Seraphim have to be bat-shit crazy,” Thea was saying. It seemed she had already started to make use of the bar. Aziraphale was on his seat at the couch, a massive old volume open on his lap, a look of quiet suffering on his face.</p><p> </p><p>“Anyone who spends all existence smushed that close to <em>actual</em> <em>God</em>, has got to be pretty scrambled, I don’t care how powerful they are,” she continued and Crowley bit his lip to keep from smirking. He summoned a bottle of 1875 Chateau Lafitte, pouring a healthy glass for Aziraphale and a slightly more moderate one for himself. </p><p> </p><p>“And six wings just seems excessive.”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley grinned, and brought the wine over, passing the large-pour to Aziraphale. The angel swirled the wine around in the glass, bringing it to his nose before giving Crowley the fondest smile. Crowley followed the ridiculously over the top wine choice with an ordinary pear. He settled down in his corner of the couch, happy his only job right now was to shut up and sip wine and watch the other two argue. He was often in snake form at Thea’s, figuring it made him less threatening. It was a habit now, but he was getting away with looking human tonight, probably because Thea was too busy trolling Aziraphale. </p><p> </p><p>Crowley recognized the manic look of someone who has been trapped in an all-day lecture that they didn’t remember agreeing to attend. Crowley had worn that look frequently over the years. </p><p> </p><p>He let the wine fill him, warm him, let the comforting sounds of not-his-problem wash over him while he slipped back into serpent form and curled up in his little coil. </p><p> </p><p>That night he received his first of ten boops, and it wasn't completely terrible.</p><p>
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<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Agape & Hamartia</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Aziraphale tries to coax Crowley into opening up but the demon is an emotional hermit crab and very adept at wiggling out of things. Besides, avoidance had been working so well for him for the last 6000 years.</p><p>Thea makes an unexpected leap with her empathic abilities with painful results.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Beta'd by PinkPenguinParade</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>
  <em> For I'm so scared of losing you </em>
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  <em> And I don't know what I can do about it </em>
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  <em> About it </em>
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  <em> So tell me how long, love, before you go </em>
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  <em> And leave me here on my own </em>
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  <em> I know that I don't wanna know </em>
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  <em> Who I am without you </em>
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  <em><span class="u"> Agape</span> by Bear’s Den </em>
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</p><p>Aziraphale watched Crowley over the rim of his wine glass. They had retired to the demon's sitting room after Thea had started falling asleep during Aziraphale's instruction. Crowley, who had already been asleep for an hour and a half, didn't fuss much about being woken up so they could take their leave. This was no doubt a beneficial side effect of Crowley's new-found determination to be uncharacteristically agreeable. It certainly made things easier in a lot of ways, but the trouble, for Aziraphale at least, was the <em> uncharacteristic </em> part. Crowley wasn't being himself, and Aziraphale couldn't decide if the boy was being passive-aggressive or merely overdoing it with his acts of contrition. Crowley <em> did </em> have a strong tendency to over do things, and there was none of the snark or thinly veiled jabs that accompanied passive-aggression.</p><p> </p><p>"More wine, Angel?" Crowley asked once they entered the flat. Aziraphale had barely nodded before a glass was placed in his hand. Aziraphale expected Crowley to join him but the demon vanished into the kitchen behind the couch and began slicing fruit onto a plate. Then, to the angel's delight (and confusion), Crowley kept bringing him nibbles. The plate of sliced pear and plum came first, then a couple of lovely zeppole, then a small box of decadent chocolate truffles. Crowley sat on the edge of his chair, monitoring Aziraphale's enjoyment, ready to spring up to refill his glass or fetch another treat. This continued as the evening wore on and Aziraphale transitioned from delight to concern by the time Crowley added a spectacular ice wine and a small selection of artisanal cheese to the mix.</p><p> </p><p>"This is delightful, Crowley dear," Aziraphale murmured, watching Crowley carefully. "I have been positively pampered."</p><p> </p><p>Crowley shrugged, but smiled a little. "You deserve it, Angel. You've been working so hard. Just want you to feel good."</p><p> </p><p>"I do," Aziraphale assured him, still concerned. "And I appreciate all the care you have put into this repast, but I think what I would like most is for you to join me."</p><p> </p><p>"Course, Angel," Crowley nodded distractedly. "Just let me get the strawberries." Aziraphale tried to hide his exasperation. <em> Finally </em>Crowley sat across from him, summoning a glass of fragrant red wine for himself. His eyes were hidden but Aziraphale felt Crowley's gaze on him.</p><p> </p><p>"If you are ready, I'd like to fill you in on what you've missed with Thea's instruction," Aziraphale ventured. "Would that be all right?"</p><p> </p><p>Crowley's gaze slid away to focus elsewhere, a minute movement of his head. "All right," he drawled, arranging his limbs on the chair in an artful display of carelessness.</p><p> </p><p>"You're certain?" Aziraphale fretted, watching the demon closely. "I honestly don't want you to think I'm upset that you're taking your time with Thea at the moment. I only want to be sure we're on the same page going forward."</p><p> </p><p>"Don't worry 'bout me, Angel," Crowley maintained lightly.</p><p> </p><p>Crowley might as well have asked Aziraphale to create a new sun. That would have been easier done.</p><p> </p><p>"After much discussion, we determined that Thea may have created the lightning storm herself," Aziraphale divulged, watching for any ill reaction from his friend. Crowley's brows drew down in an expression of dismay but otherwise he didn't move. Aziraphale decided to continue.</p><p> </p><p>"She witnessed a small automobile accident near the park that night," he related. "Seems it may have sparked a bit of trauma in the poor dear. Her panic attack and the storm came on suddenly at the same moment." Aziraphale continued to recount what Thea had told him of her experience. Crowley was quiet, nodding occasionally to show he was listening. "If she has any hope of controlling her lightning, I suggested she ought to work through her trauma as best she's able, understanding the time constraint."</p><p> </p><p>Crowley snorted. "How'd she like that?" </p><p> </p><p>"She agreed, as it happens," Aziraphale defended. "<em> And </em> she's done several chapters in a self-help workbook she ordered." </p><p> </p><p>Crowley looked surprised and Aziraphale took advantage of the segue. "Perhaps <em> you </em> might consider a similar course?"</p><p> </p><p>"If you can find a workbook on overcoming a fall from heaven and subsequent eternal damnation I'll consider it," Crowley sneered. Apparently his agreeableness only extended so far. </p><p> </p><p>"I'm worried about you, dear. You understandably have a great deal of trauma as well."</p><p> </p><p>"Oh sure. Just a swirling maelstrom of colourful neuroses, me," Crowley quipped. "But as I'm not the one in immediate danger of disintegration, let's go back to discussing Thea, Hmm?"</p><p> </p><p>“I am an excellent multitasker, as it happens,” Aziraphale insisted. Crowley had evaded two of Aziraphale’s prior attempts to discuss the demon’s heartbreaking revelation from the night before. He was wiley, but Aziraphale was steadfast. “For example, I would propose that Thea’s survival will largely depend on her ability to reconcile her demonic, human, and angelic natures, as well as heal herself, and summon and control her lightning. Would you agree?”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley looked serious and shrugged, tilting his glass to his lips. “Sure, but that first bit alone is likely to take her a couple hundred years at least—”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes well, we’ll have to do our best to condense a few centuries into the remaining months,” Aziraphale grumbled. “After all, You have managed to control your abilities, and you’re dead set against reconciling anything to do with your nature.”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley hit the rim of his glass against his teeth, spilling a bit of wine onto his shirt. “Epitome of control. That’s me,” he grinned, refusing to take the bait. Aziraphale fumed.</p><p> </p><p>“Crowley, you can’t just go on as if you didn’t recite the most heart wrenching tragedy I’ve ever heard last night!” Aziraphale had been preparing his argument in his head all day and let the demon have it. Crowley, for his part, seemed focused on examining the wet spot on his black shirt from his wine. Aziraphale’s well thought-out argument floundered somewhat as the demon slowly pulled the shirt over his head and dropped it on the floor beside his seat. The smooth exposure of slightly freckled flesh on that beautiful narrow chest was difficult to ignore. The maneuver had knocked Crowley’s glasses slightly askew and mussed up his hair just a bit, and <em> he was still wearing that grey scarf against his bare skin. </em> Crowley straightened his glasses and ran a hand through his hair, smiling to himself. He was insufferable!</p><p> </p><p>“Crowley, you will listen to what I have to say,” Aziraphale demanded. </p><p> </p><p>“Right. M’listening Angel,” Crowley agreed, reaching for a large strawberry. Aziraphale doubted him and reiterated his concerns about Crowley’s avoidance to deal with his deeper feelings. </p><p> </p><p>“I told you I’m fine, Angel,” Crowley insisted, casually playing with the thick red berry, dragging it along his collarbone before lifting it to his nose to inhale its scent. Aziraphale swallowed hard. He would not be led off his course!</p><p> </p><p>“Crowley,” he warned. Crowley arched an eyebrow, feigning innocence before biting into the berry. Nature herself seemed to conspire with the demon and the berry bled a glistening pink trail of juice from Crowley’s lip. It rolled down his chin while he chewed, pretending to wait for Aziraphale to continue his lecture. Instead, Aziraphale watched that bead of juice slide over the angular jaw and slow halfway down Crowley’s neck. Aziraphale suddenly had an appreciation for why Crowley enjoyed watching him eat.</p><p> </p><p>“Stop tempting me, dear,” Aziraphale scolded.</p><p> </p><p>“Not sure what you mean, Aziraphale,” Crowley smirked, licking the juice from his fingers in a languid stroke. “Are you feeling tempted?”</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale was acutely aware of how badly he was tempted. He was <em> achingly </em>tempted. Crowley shrugged his gorgeous shoulders and reached for another berry. Aziraphale was not going to survive a repeat performance. He stood up, snatching Crowley’s wrist above the fruit plate and pulled him to his feet. Crowley’s smug grin showed the sharpness of his cuspids and Aziphale truly didn’t know why that turned him on even more. </p><p> </p><p>He fairly dragged Crowley around the coffee table and pulled him back down to the couch, sitting him on his lap. Crowley laughed. It wasn’t his real laugh, but the cool chuckle of someone who thought they’d won. Aziraphale seized those smirking lips with his own, threading his fingers through deep red hair, before licking up the trail of berry juice from throat to lip. “You scoundrel,” Aziraphale growled. “You must know I won’t forget. We <em> will </em> discuss this.”</p><p> </p><p>“Mm Hmm,” Crowley placated, letting the angel steal his glasses, setting them on the back of the couch. </p><p> </p><p>Crowley’s mouth tasted of strawberries and wine, and it paired so well with the faint taste of chocolate still on Aziraphale’s breath. He licked the demon’s mouth clean of it, trailing his short fingernails slightly down the bumps of Crowley’s spine. Crowley shivered and squirmed, pulling himself up so he could straddle Aziraphale’s lap while they kissed.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re so beautiful, Angel,” Crowley sighed, nimble fingers already at work on Aziraphale’s tie, pulling it off and dropping it over the arm of the couch. Aziraphale pursed his lips at the lack of care and Crowley gave a knowing smirk. Aziraphale slid his fingers along the waistband of Crowley’s jeans, once again amazed that the demon could move as well as he did in the tight garment. Crowley’s fingers were working on the waistcoat now and Aziraphale cupped the demon’s arse with both hands, gently palming the smooth globes, waiting to see if Crowley would call an end to this as he had the night before. Crowley pressed his forehead against Aziraphale’s temple, nuzzling his hair and breathing softly against his ear. </p><p> </p><p>“I’m yours Angel,” he whispered. “I want to make you feel good. Tell me what you want. I’ll do anything for you, Aziraphale.”</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale groaned. Curse his luck to have to match wits with an expert tempter. Wiley serpent. Those words shot right through his heart, made what was already hard swell even more. A taste of Anthony J. Crowley had to be the most addictive he’d ever encountered. He tangled his hands in the demon’s scarf, as he had done the night they had first kissed.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, Crowley,” he moaned. “I do want you so badly, my dear.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, Angel,” Crowley gasped between kisses. “Tell me how to please you.”</p><p> </p><p>“I want...Oh! My darling I want you to show me—”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes?”</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale pulled back from another searing kiss, steeled himself, his heart fit to burst with love and desire.</p><p> </p><p>“Show me what you wouldn’t last night,” he intoned firmly. Crowley sat back on his lap slowly, his face wary and confused. Aziraphale felt himself smile like the cat that ate the canary.</p><p> </p><p>“You said you’d do anything to please me?” Aziraphale purred. “I want to see you bring yourself to release. I want you to put your own pleasure first.”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley looked completely baffled. “Wot?”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not blind, Crowley,” Aziraphale rebuked. "I’ve seen how you tense at my gentle touches but you are all too happy to give back ardent ones. You say you want to provide me pleasure, but you will not let me do the same for you. You have treated me to a literal feast. I want to see you pamper yourself now.”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley was frozen. With his chest bared Aziraphale was able to see that his blush continued down past his collarbones. With his glasses discarded Aziraphale watched his topaz eyes shift from confusion to pain to anger.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re ruining a damn good thing here, you titanic fucking idiot,” Crowley snapped. “Have you forgotten how you played with me for over an hour, mapping every inch of me with your bloody mouth? Because I certainly haven’t!”</p><p> </p><p>“I haven’t forgotten,” Aziraphale murmured, ignoring the sting of the insult and sweeping a soothing hand across Cowley’s back. “I remember it quite fondly. But that was before the storm, my dear, wasn't it?”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley’s glare slipped, proving to Aziraphale that it was a mask—a distraction (as if there was any doubt.) The blasted demon was thinking now. Aziraphale could see the gears turning in his infernal mind, trying to find an angle to talk his way out of this. Once again, the universe seemed to conspire with the demon as the silence was broken by a quacking duck.</p><p> </p><p>“What on Earth?”</p><p> </p><p>“Uh, new ring tone,” Crowley grinned sheepishly, reaching for his back pocket.</p><p> </p><p>“Crowley, Don’t you dare!”</p><p> </p><p>“Sorry, Angel. It could be Thea,” Crowley feigned helplessness as he retrieved his mobile. “Gotta check it. Could be raining spoons again.”</p><p> </p><p>It <em> was </em>Thea. Crowley showed him the screen before he answered it. Aziraphale pursed his lips in annoyance, but had to admit answering was the best course.</p><p> </p><p>“Yep?” Crowley greeted, devoid of any indication that he was currently half naked and straddling a sulking angel.</p><p> </p><p>“Uh,” Crowley added after a short pause. The relieved smirk had evaporated and now the demon looked nervous. Aziraphale sat up a little straighter, setting a concerned hand on Crowley’s shoulder. Crowley met his gaze, still listening to Thea on the phone, stressed, sad, guilty, afraid, resigned.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah. ‘Course. Be right there,” he mumbled before taking the mobile from his ear and disconnecting the call. He stared at the phone for a moment as though it were something dangerous before giving himself a shake and returning it to his back pocket.</p><p> </p><p>“Sorry, Angel,” he teased, although his heart didn’t seem in it. “Looks like you’ll have to watch me have a wank another time. Thea wants to <em> talk.</em>” Crowley pronounced the word ‘talk’ as one might say the phrase ‘boil me alive’. Aziraphale shook his head. He wouldn’t stand in the way of them burying the hatchet. With any luck it might go a ways to helping them both heal some.</p><p> </p><p>“Of course,” he said, giving Crowley a gentle kiss on the lips. Crowley nipped his lip when Aziraphale insisted on keeping the kiss soft. He sighed, disappointed, and handed Crowley his glasses. “Don’t forget to summon yourself a shirt. I’m afraid you have a bit of a bite mark on your shoulder.”</p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t want to be angry with you anymore,” she told him. Crowley had barely come into the flat before she hit him with that. He stopped in his tracks, trying to reconcile the words with the harsh tone they were spoken in. He felt a trickle of relief but his nerves jangled with stress.</p><p> </p><p>“Um, that’s very — “</p><p> </p><p>“I’m still mad at you, I just don’t want to be,” she added with a touch less ire. Crowley nodded, but he still didn’t really understand. Thea gestured for him to take a seat and he did so reluctantly, feeling very uncomfortable. Crowley hated conflict. Always had. He really was a terrible demon. </p><p> </p><p>Thea swept a few spoons off the back of the chair then sat neatly in her seat, toying with the mobile and Crowley felt a twinge of shared nerves, realizing she’d been fiddling with it since she called him. “Anna would want me to let it go, concentrate on the good, get strong, kick ass, keep going,” Thea resumed, her voice quiet. Crowley sensed her grief again, but it wasn’t the tidal wave it was before. </p><p> </p><p>“She sounds like a genuinely good person,” Crowley offered, and surprised himself a little by meaning it. Thea nodded quietly, then clicked her mobile on and passed it over to him. Crowley hesitated before reaching out to take it. They hadn’t been this close since he’d hurt her and he was extremely conscious of the fact. </p><p> </p><p>The screen showed Thea with a young woman he assumed was Anna. They were standing in a park, trees ablaze with autumn colours, and they were holding each other, laughing. Anna was taller than Thea, blonde and busty and her blue eyes shone with a joy Crowley could almost feel through the screen. Crowley also noticed the little golden cross around Anna’s neck. Anna had faith. No wonder Thea was pissed with the angels.</p><p> </p><p>“I was such an awkward little mouse before I met her,” Thea continued. Crowley handed the phone back, trying to picture Thea as mousey. It wasn’t easy. “My parents tried their best but they never wanted kids, you know? I didn’t have many friends, and then she came along and she was just so beautiful. A force of relentless positivity, you know? I learned so much from her.” Thea wiped away a tear, and Crowley felt his throat constrict. (Wine must have been too dry.) </p><p> </p><p>“I never thought I'd meet someone like that, let alone fall for her,” she laughed sadly. She sighed, bit a lip before looking up at Crowley with something that looked almost like...sympathy? “I think you and I have that in common, at least.”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley choked and started coughing spasmodically. He summoned a glass of water and gulped it down. Thea watched him silently, her eyes concerned.</p><p> </p><p>“Er, Sorry ‘bout that,” he stammered, clearing his throat. “Not sure what you’re insinuating but—”</p><p> </p><p>“Not insinuating. You told me as much right before you passed out in the hall,” Thea said. She looked nearly as uncomfortable as Crowley felt. Crowley tried desperately to remember but the tail end of that day was a messy blur. Thea filled in the blanks. “I opened the door, and I don’t know what you were <em> planning </em>on saying but you just blurted out that you wanted to kiss Aziraphale."</p><p> </p><p>Crowley <em> did </em> remember that now. He felt himself flush with embarrassment. What an absolute nightmare. “Did you...did you tell him?” Crowley wasn’t sure why he was afraid she had. Aziraphale <em> knew </em> Crowley was crazy for him, but the thought of him and Thea discussing it made him cringe. He actually wheezed a breath of relief when she shook her head no.</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t have any intention of telling him anything so long as you aren’t a threat to him. It isn’t any of my business, but I wanted you to know that I know. It's awkward knowing.”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s awkward knowing you know!” Crowley grumbled, then the rest of what she said hit him like a brick to the face and he sat up straight. “You’re afraid I’d hurt Aziraphale?” </p><p> </p><p>“Aren’t <em> you </em>?”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley remembered why he hated empaths. This had to be an empath thing. <em> He </em> certainly hadn’t given anything away.</p><p> </p><p>“Look, If that’s what you’re worried about, don’t,” Crowley steeled himself against what he was about to say, it came out like spitting ice. "Aziraphale is a Principality. He’s not just a run of the mill angel. Me, on the other hand? Run of the mill demon. Couldn’t hurt him if I wanted to, and I definitely don’t want to, so…”</p><p> </p><p>“I know. Aziraphale said as much.”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley tried not to glare. “You said you didn’t tell him.”</p><p> </p><p>“I didn’t tell him you wanted to kiss him, Crowley,” Thea reassured him. “But you’d just scared the shit out of me and he was trying to make me feel safe. I asked him if he could take you in a fight. He assured me he’d <em>‘utterly</em> <em>trounce’</em> you.” she added the last part with a sly smile and finger quote and Crowley could practically hear Aziraphale saying those words.</p><p> </p><p>His cheeks burned.  Worst of all, he couldn’t refute it. He couldn’t very well point out that while he’d <em> technically </em> be outmatched, Crowley had spent millennia learning how to get away with things. He was trying to make her feel safer around him.</p><p> </p><p>“So have you decided if you’re still mad at me?” he asked, bringing the conversation back to an uncomfortable—but still preferable—topic. </p><p> </p><p>“I’m still a bit mad. Still a bit wary,” she answered earnestly. “But I do forgive you. You thought I hurt Aziraphale, and while that doesn’t excuse you going apeshit, it does explain why.” </p><p> </p><p>Crowley swallowed hard, his throat tight once again. (The wine again. Must have been a terrible bottle.) </p><p> </p><p>Thea’s looked down at her hands, flexing her fingers and her gaze grew dark. “If I found out someone had hurt Anna…” There was a spark, a quick flash of light between her fingers. She clenched her fist and it was gone. Crowley’s eyes went wide. Thea <em> had </em> to have seen that but her gaze was still clouded in dark thoughts of vengeance. A piece of cutlery clattered in the kitchen. It probably wasn't a fork. </p><p> </p><p>A second later, she confirmed his suspicion. “If I was able to hurt a <em> Principality </em>, what do you think I could do to an Archangel?”</p><p> </p><p>“Get yourself bloody killed in a heartbeat, and us alongside you,” Crowley snapped. Thea looked up at him in surprise. Crowley stood, pointing an accusatory finger at her. “If I hear you even suggest you’re thinking about using your dubious powers like that I will lock you in your fucking room!” he hissed. He didn’t care if she became afraid of him again. He wouldn't let her risk herself like that. Or them. Mostly them. Obviously.</p><p> </p><p>Thea didn’t shy away. Her expression was neutral. She was being a fucking pillock and Crowley felt like he was looking in a mirror.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s late,” she said finally. “Thanks for coming down to talk, but I think I’m going to call it a night.”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley threw up his hands in exasperation and snapped himself back up to his own flat, startling Aziraphale who was, of course, in the middle of a comically large book.</p><p> </p><p>“Your charge is an utter fucking loon,” he seethed. Aziraphale sighed and marked his place in the book, setting it aside.</p><p> </p><p>“<em> My </em> charge, is she?” the angel asked warily.</p><p> </p><p>“When she’s being an absolute fucking idiot, she is <em> your </em>charge,” Crowley snapped, and growled when Aziraphale had the audacity to smirk. “She wants to use that lightning of hers on Gabriel!”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh!” Aziraphale’s eyes widened in shock. “Oh well, that is a terrible idea. I trust you told her that?”</p><p> </p><p>“Course I did!” Crowley snapped.</p><p> </p><p>“Is that what she wanted to talk to you about?”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley shook his head, still feeling keyed up and annoyed. “She’s under the impression that I’m attracted to you.”</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale smiled fondly. “Is she right?”  </p><p> </p><p>As if he even had to ask. Aziraphale hunting for compliments was incredibly adorable. Well, if he wanted reassurance of Crowley's lust, he was all too happy to oblige.</p><p> </p><p>Crowley smiled lewdly and moved to hover over the angel, pressing a kiss to his mouth. Aziraphale returned the kiss, smiling against Crowley’s lips.</p><p> </p><p>“She wanted to make sure I’m not a threat to you,” Crowley whispered as he kissed Aziraphale again, sliding a hand up his chest. “Apparently you already told her that was highly improbable. Hmm?” He unfastened the last button on the waistcoat and slid it and the jacket over the angle’s shoulders in one motion. He was glad he hadn’t put the damn tie back on, though it <em> had </em> been retrieved from the floor, folded and set aside on the table.</p><p> </p><p>“Well…” Aziraphale hedged. Crowley pressed in closer, hands at work on the fastening of pale trousers. </p><p> </p><p>“‘Utterly Trounced’, you said.” Crowley hissed, licking into his ear. The angel giggled, then cleared his throat, pulling back to give Crowley his <em> very serious </em>look.</p><p> </p><p>“Crowley, I'm on to you. I haven’t forgotten that I’ve already told you what I want,” Aziraphale warned. "I won't be distracted."</p><p> </p><p>Crowley ignored him, leaving the trousers unfastened. He removed his glasses and smirked down at the angel. “You wouldn’t be able to just sit there and watch me while I got myself off. You'd have to join in. Besides, I have a much more sinister idea.”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley snapped and summoned them both into his bedroom so he could push Aziraphale up against the window letting the closed curtains help keep the angel upright. </p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale made a surprised sound at the sudden displacement and Crowley snorted a laugh as he sank to his knees. The trousers were already open and hanging off the angel’s hips so Crowley eased the pants down around lovely plump thighs as his tongue slid wetly around the head of Aziraphale’s cock. Crowley wanted to act fast, take advantage of the angel’s surprise but he glanced up at the angel’s face to check in.</p><p>Aziraphale’s jaw had locked, spine rigid as his blue eyes rolled back. Crowley’s mouth worked quickly, tongue swirling, pushing back the foreskin. He stroked his hands over soft sweet skin, before gently rubbing a knuckle against Aziraphale's perineum. </p><p>"Crowley..." It came as a whimper from above him.</p><p>Crowley pulled back. "Hmm?"</p><p>“Your mouth feels so good, darling, but I wanted <em> you </em> to <em> — </em>”</p><p>Crowley moved forward, swallowing as Aziraphale’s erection slid along his tongue. He listened happily as Aziraphale’s concern was choked down to a mewling wail. Blunt fingers wrenched Crowley’s red hair before stroking gently down either side of his head only to grab hold again. Crowley slid his mouth off with an obscene slurp.</p><p>“Want me to stop, Angel?”</p><p>“You horrible wiley thing,” Aziraphale groaned. “Don’t you dare.”</p><p>Crowley was happy to plunge ahead. He'd never had the pleasure of taking Aziraphale in his mouth and the realization that he was allowed, that Aziraphale was letting him, had him soaring. This had been a desperate plan to avoid the angel's questions but now that he was here, Crowley found he enjoyed it immensely. He redoubled his efforts, hell-bent on making Aziraphale come so hard he wouldn't be able to form a cohesive thought for hours.</p><p>Aziraphale thrust forward, mindless. A good sign, Crowley figured. The angel moaned, trembling violently when Crowley murmured in response. The vibration made Aziraphale’s bollocks draw up, but Crowley wasn’t ready for this to be over. Slender fingers wrapped around the warm, soft bollocks and tugged, drawing out both a yell and a slew of archaic insults from the angel. Crowley chuckled around his mouthful, then winced as Aziraphale tugged harder on his hair as he returned to working over the angel’s cock. </p><p>Cool fingers kneaded Crowley’s head frantically, trying desperately to not just grab hold. Crowley rewarded Aziraphale by wrapping his tongue around the weeping head of the angel’s erection and sucking hard.</p><p>"Crowley, Crowley, Crowley," Aziraphale chanted. "Oh! — my dear, my Crowley!" </p><p>That was interesting. Probably a slurred accident, a meaningless stumble from 'my dear' into Crowley's name but hearing the angel moan <em>'my</em> <em>Crowley'</em> made him twitch and groan, pulse alive with lust. He sank down farther, rubbing the flat of his tongue against the underside of the angel's shaft. Aziraphale’s soft fingers drifted down to Crowley’s mouth, caressing the stretched skin and lightly fluttering over the demon’s closed eyes. Crowley whined at the gentleness and swatted the angel's hand away.</p><p>This time, as soon as Aziraphale was close to coming, the demon sucked harder, pressing the ridges on the roof of his mouth against the angel’s erection. Crowley’s fingers teased and caressed his arse, pushing Aziraphale over the edge. He came almost violently, holding Crowley’s head against his body and spilling down his throat.</p><p>Crowley released Aziraphale’s softening erection and sat back on his haunches. He licked his lips, smacking them together loudly. "Now who’s trounced?" he purred, grinning. Aziraphale made a pleasantly satiated sound.</p><p>Crowley licked his lips again, chasing the last traces of Aziraphale’s taste and enjoying the view. Aziraphalel was the very image of erotic bliss; shirt half undone, trousers pulled down past his thighs and blonde hair tousled just so. Azure eyes, hazy and heavy lidded. The angel looked thoroughly fucked, and Crowley grinned to himself before rising to his feet. </p><p>His own clothing was stretched tight over an erection but he was getting used to ignoring it. He kept his body turned away while Aziraphale regained his senses, just in case the angel got the wrong idea and felt he needed to reciprocate. Crowley had gotten his angel off. That’s all he needed. He snapped to change his outfit into his black cotton pyjama pants and a tee shirt, ready to call it a night.</p><p>“You are a fiend,” Aziraphale growled behind him. Crowley smirked and stretched dramatically before throwing the corner of the bedsheets over and climbing into bed. "Come on, Angel. Big day of ahead explaining to Thea how badly outmatched she'll be if she picks a fight with—"</p><p>Crowley had finally noticed the taut heat in Aziraphale crystal blue eyes. He trailed off with a gulp and slithered down to hide under the blanket.</p><p>"Do you think I'm a complete imbecile?" Aziraphale griped. Crowley heard him leave his spot by the window and gripped the blanket around him like a shell. There was no point in answering. Aziraphale had that snippy tone that always preceded Crowley getting an earful.</p><p>"Did you think I'd just forget everything I had planned if you got your mouth on me first?"</p><p>"If I'd done it right…" Crowley muttered. The mattress dipped as Aziraphale crawled into the bed and Crowley felt strong hands clamp on his shoulders and drag him toward the angel, blankets and all. </p><p>"My dear, the only thing you achieved is to take the edge off," Aziraphale teased. "Now I can really take my time."</p><p>Crowley scrunched up against the throb of arousal and moaned under his cotton security blanket. Why did his plans keep backfiring?</p><p>He heard a snap and felt something click into place around his wrists. He clenched his teeth in consternation.</p><p>"Aziraphale, if these are tartan again I swear to Satan I'll—"</p><p>"You'll do one of two things," Aziraphale cut him off. Crowley waited for the clarification on <em> that </em>but it wasn't forthcoming. Curiosity made him shift under his blanket slightly to peer at the cuffs binding him. They were, in fact, fucking tartan.</p><p>Crowley made an exaggerated noise of disgust and tunneled deeper into the blanket. He heard Aziraphale snicker somewhere above him. </p><p>He could turn into a snake and get out of the cuffs, but he'd learned the hard way that he couldn't move on silk sheets. He could miracle the cuffs gone, Aziraphale <em> knew </em>he could free himself with a thought, and yet...it felt like cheating somehow? Which was weird, because he loved cheating and he definitely didn’t want...this…</p><p>Wait, did he <em>want</em> <em>this</em>?</p><p>"Staying in a snug little ball under the blanket isn't one of the options, dear," Aziraphale taunted. </p><p>Aziraphale wanted him to ask. Crowley pretended to snore instead.</p><p>"Oh, I'm bored of this," Aziraphale sighed and Crowley instantly felt a stab of fear that Aziraphale was genuinely annoyed with him and about to leave.</p><p>
  <em> Shit.  </em>
</p><p>Crowley <em> did </em> want this.</p><p>"Angel?" He struggled to free himself from the blanket but all his previous backward shimmying made forward progress difficult, hampered further by his bound wrists. Aziraphale was too quiet. Crowley had taken it too far and now he was snared in his own blanket! Why, oh why did his plans keep fucking backfiring?!</p><p>With a snarl of frustration Crowley vanished the blanket, twisting around toward Aziraphale, ready to beg him for another chance— to find the angel nearly in tears with silent laughter. </p><p>"Were you under attack by your own blanket, Darling?"</p><p>"Fat lot of help <em> you </em> were," Crowley muttered, blushing. "It was fine until I had to evacuate to keep you from running off!" he continued, knowing he sounded daft since Aziraphale seemed to have no such plans.</p><p>"I'm not running anywhere. However, now that you're out we can proceed," Aziraphale smiled warmly. He took hold of the golden chain connecting Crowley's cuff and pulled it to metal ringed tiedown attached to the headboard that had not been there a moment earlier.</p><p>The chain passed <em> through </em> the heavy ring, then held fast. </p><p>"Ta da!" Aziraphale grinned. Crowley shook his head incredulously.  </p><p>"This is going to make your plan a lot more difficult, Angel," he smirked, giving his cuffs an experimental tug. </p><p>"How so?" Aziraphale's eyes shone with disappointment.  Crowley shook his head again.</p><p>"Angel, when I asked you if you'd never had a wank before I honestly assumed you knew what one was!"</p><p>"Of course I know! What has — oh! You mean because your hands are bound?"</p><p>Crowley just stared.</p><p>"Yes, darling. I changed my plan."</p><p>Crowley groaned in consternation. "For somebody's sake, then why was I plotting against you?!"</p><p>"Were you plotting against me?" Aziraphale's eyes went wide with mock surprise. "I dare say you're not very good at it, then. I've been having a wonderful night so far. One decadent treat after another."</p><p>Crowley smirked at him. "Bastard."</p><p>"Now listen, you have an important choice to make now," Aziraphale smiled. "One: you and I can talk about what is going on with you. About the fantasy you described last night and the subsequent flood of tears."</p><p>Crowley wrinkled his nose and recoiled. "Yeearghhh" he gagged. Aziraphale was not amused. </p><p>"We will discuss it at some point, so you might consider getting on with it," he grumbled.</p><p>"What's option number two," Crowley pressed on. "Because I'm definitely more inclined to do it."</p><p>Aziraphale grinned again as if Crowley had given him a gift. "Oh my darling, I did hope you would."</p><p>"Er," Crowley prepared to backpedal. "What is it exactly?" </p><p>Aziraphale snapped his fingers and summoned a couple bottles and two small shot glasses. Crowley was immediately intrigued. He recognized the Scotch; the other smaller bottle was new to him but was clearly an amber alcohol of some kind. </p><p>"I'm on board!" Crowley exclaimed happily. Aziraphale laughed, settling himself more comfortably against the headboard. </p><p>"I should tell you there are rules," Aziraphale warned, cracking the smaller bottle and giving it an experimental sniff. He seemed to deem the bottle acceptable and resealed it.</p><p>"Rules to getting drunk?" Crowley frowned, suspicious. Aziraphale smiled fondly.</p><p>"A game, Crowley!" he giggled, echoing Crowley's proclamation from a month ago. "A shot per question. Simple answers only and the other <em> must </em> answer honestly."</p><p>Crowley scowled at that. "That's not a game. That's just drinking and interviewing."</p><p>Aziraphale's mirth died down somewhat and Crowley cursed himself and hurried on. "I mean, where's the risk? Shouldn't taking a shot be a consequence for refusing a question?"</p><p>"Probably, but in your case it might just further <em> incentivize </em> your silence," Aziraphale griped. Crowley snickered. "You are going to talk to me tonight, Crowley. Taking this opinion will let you have your hands free, allow you to limit your answers somewhat, and get some tit for tat from me."</p><p>"And get sloshed?"</p><p>"Yes, well," Aziraphale shrugged. "Perhaps not the healthiest method of doing this, but I'm not your therapist, dear. I'm your lover."</p><p>Crowley wrinkled his nose at the word <em> 'lover' </em>. Sounded so sordid. It might be the most accurate of human labels but he hated how it sounded in his ears. Aziraphale misunderstood his sneer and pursed his lips.</p><p>"Or you can stay bound and answer my questions in depth," Aziraphale snapped.</p><p>"Sorry, Angel," Crowley apologized quickly. "Wasn't complaining, really. Just thinking about something else. I'll take option number two. Got loads of questions for you," he grinned.</p><p>Aziraphale gave him a suspicious look but the restraints vanished from Crowley's wrists and the demon eagerly reached for the smaller bottle to see what it was.</p><p>"Thea recommended it. It is one of her favourite ryes," Aziraphale smiled. He held the two shot glasses for Crowley to fill. "Shall we get started, dear?"</p><p>*****</p><p>Thea rolled over in bed and tried once again to get comfortable. She just couldn't relax. Something had been nagging at her all day, tugging at her concentration, distracting her from Aziraphale's lessons (and earning her a couple scoldings). She had wondered if it was a side effect of the conflict between Crowley and herself. It's what had prompted her to try to resolve it despite the late hour.</p><p>She did feel on better footing where the demon was concerned but now, hours later, the feeling that something was wrong had grown worse.</p><p>She flopped onto her back again and glared at her ceiling in annoyance. Maybe it was coming from Aziraphale or Crowley. She was new to this empath business, but it stood to reason the feeling <em> could </em> have an external source, right?</p><p>She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. She tried to shut everything else out but that <em> feeling </em> . Aziraphale had explained this earlier this week. It was a difficult lesson for both of them, Aziraphale not being an empath himself and Thea just being shit at everything. This seemed logical to them both, though, to pare her other thoughts down and try to just <em> feel </em>.</p><p>She focused on this thread of anxiety, tried to follow it, make a shape from it, understand it somehow. The feeling sharpened, concentrated, gave a direction. Her eyes opened and she frowned.</p><p>Someone was in danger. It was clearer now. A little vibration in the air that warbled <em> please help me </em>. It was coming from below her.</p><p>Thea rolled out of bed and slipped her feet into sneakers. Now that she had focused on it, the feeling was too strong to ignore. Someone needed her help. Someone was suffering, afraid, alone.</p><p>Thea grabbed her phone off the charger and the light cotton cardigan she’d been wearing earlier then left the flat, drifting down the staircase and pausing at each floor. Below below below. She kept going down until the stairs exited at the lobby. </p><p>She peered through the glass doors out into the dark street. The feeling was stronger here, she was close but...<em> wrong way </em>.</p><p>The hair on the back of her neck prickled. The feeling wasn't coming from outside. It was still <em> below </em>.</p><p>The building had to have a basement. Thea turned and walked into the lobby. There was a door at the far end that looked promising. She hurried over to it and pulled. It took some effort to open, the door was old and the hinges were rusted. The <em> feeling </em> pulsed in her mind, an echo of a rapid heartbeat. Thea winced against the shrill screech of old metal and dragged the door open all the way. There were old metal stairs descending into darkness. The air was chilled and smelled stale. No one had been down here in decades, except...someone was down there <em> now. </em></p><p>Thea switched on the flashlight on her phone and swept the light over the concrete wall. There were a couple small windows near the top of the wall, so caked with grime they were opaque. One was broken. Maybe someone had been exploring and had fallen in?</p><p>"Hello?" she called. Her voice echoed slightly. There was no reply. Maybe they were unconscious. The <em> feeling </em> was desperate.</p><p><em> Please help me </em>.</p><p>"Fuuuck me," Thea grumbled and swept the light over the old rusty stairs. Obviously occupying the building didn't require anything from the basement. This place looked like a death trap, but what would an immortal demon care?</p><p>Thea had seen enough horror movies to know where this was going. She checked the rusty door to make sure it couldn't close and lock her in. It seemed like it had given up the idea of ever moving again and now that it was open it planned to spend eternity in this position. She wouldn't have been able to close it if she tried.</p><p>She considered calling Crowley but it was well past 3 a.m. and she was suddenly second guessing herself. What were the chances that someone would happen to fall into this particular basement and need her help? It was probably all in her head.</p><p>Still…</p><p>She fired off a text instead, explaining where she was and what she was doing. If he was awake, he'd come help, if not she could either tell him it was nothing later or call if it was an emergency. If this turned out to be a huge fucking mistake, well at least he knew where she was. Totally logical. Preventative steps taken now she definitely wouldn't get axe-murdered.</p><p>She started down the creaking stairs raising the phone again to light her way. There were old water stained boxes heaped up against one wall, some electrical cable coiled up on a hook. Old rusty tools and an old workbench to her right. She paused a quarter of the way down when the step felt like it had a bit of give to it. She frowned, shining the light at her feet. The stairs were badly corroded here. This was a bad idea. She wasn't going any further.</p><p>"Hello?" She called again. "If you can hear me, I'm going to get some help!" There were no sounds except the occasional passing car on the street through the broken window. Thea turned to go back up. "I'll be right back," she assured the <em> feeling. </em>"Just sit tight. I'll— "</p><p>The step broke under her foot, metal cutting into her leg, and she screamed in pain and shock as the railing came loose under her grasp and sent her falling three metres into the darkness. Some long abandoned plastic bins broke her fall knocking the wind from her lungs and, turning her freefall to a painful half roll onto a filthy vinyl covered bench press.</p><p> She heard her phone skitter away from her and she stayed still where she landed, trying to catch her breath. Her leg hurt and her wrist throbbed, but she was alive and (after a couple of painful minutes) she could move.</p><p>She could see a little in the dim light from her flashlight and brought her leg around to inspect the deep gash. She laughed bitterly to herself, remembering another conversation from earlier in the week.</p><p>
  <em> "Are you threatening me?" she asked the angel, laughing. She was only half joking. Aziraphale fussed, a small paring knife in his hand, uncomfortable but not completely dissuaded. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> "Our kind tend to heal quickly, and can heal ourselves immediately with a miracle if needed. You may need such a skill, especially if Crowley or myself are unable to aid you." He gestured toward the black snake dangling limply around his neck like a cartoonish scarf. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> "So you propose cutting me up to practice?" Thea always played up hyperbole for comic relief when she got flustered. "I see that you've been the real monster all along, Aziraphale! When will your dark hunger be satisfied?" </em>
</p><p>
  <em> "Lord, grant me patience," the angle muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. </em>
</p><p>Aziraphale had only proposed a small nick on her arm. Thea winced, rolling her blood soaked pant leg up to better see the long jagged wound. It ran halfway up the side of her calf from her ankle, soaking her canvas sneakers in red. She winced, trying to press her palm against the seeping wound. This was karma. She should have let Aziraphale cut her. </p><p>The wound stung, might need stitches and a tetanus shot, but she'd live. She felt sick, coming down from shock, and lonely, part of her desperate for comfort. She took off her cardigan (it had a large tear in it now anyway) and balled it up against her leg. Her wrist throbbed, but nothing was broken. She would be okay. No reason to panic. She concentrated on breathing through the remainder of her shock.</p><p>The adrenaline started to fade and she glanced around the room. Everything was dusty and slightly damp, the floor was mostly clear with various detritus (old rolls of carpet and wall paper, a macrame owl, cardboard box full of magazines) stashed up against the walls. The velveteen couch would have been nicer to land on. </p><p>Thea groaned again and reached for her phone but it had come to a rest at least two arms lengths away because of course it did. Feeling exhausted and hurt and a little punchy, Thea tried to summon the phone to her side, snapping dramatically, to no effect. </p><p>"Here phone," she tried, whistling.</p><p>She even tried to use the Force.</p><p>Fuck, she'd have to actually move.</p><p>"Fucking useless human limitations," she grumbled, sliding herself painfully toward the glowing light of her phone. The soft rustling sound to her right made her freeze, her skin pebbling with gooseflesh. The<em> feeling </em> was gone—  She hadn't noticed, distracted by her plummet through rusty metal (Honestly Crowley, what the fuck?!) The pain and injury had taken up the bulk of her attention but now..</p><p>She had come down here to help someone. The <em> Feeling </em> had vanished but she knew she wasn't alone.</p><p>Two eyes glowed in darkness. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Roan</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Aziraphale continues to encourage Crowley to let him in, but the angel is starting to feel worn thin. Managing the bulk of Thea's training, knowing everything that was on the line for the dear girl, all while being haunted by uncertainties now that he was cut off from Heaven... it...well, it was a bit much.<br/>Now Thea's made a discovery in the basement, and Crowley has gone dramatic again. Aziraphale really missed his bookshop.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Beta Love to PinkPenguinParade</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>
  <em> Oh my heart </em>
</p><p>
  <em> No rest tonight </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Eyes wide shut </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Shut out the light </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Put me through hell again </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I miss the fire </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Let's burn the other end </em>
</p><p>
  <em> With no end in sight </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Come on break me down </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I'll let you ruin my day </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Flow through my veins </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I need a fix </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Bitter and sick </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> <span class="u"> Bitter and Sick </span> - One Two </em>
</p><p>
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</p><p>The alcohol may have been a bad idea, in retrospect, Aziraphale thought. Well, maybe a terrific idea actually but certainly not what he'd had in mind originally.</p><p> </p><p>Crowley had been all too happy to indulge, even if that indulgence was contingent on indulging Aziraphale's quest for answers. </p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale giggled to himself<em> . Ah puns. </em></p><p> </p><p>That part went as he'd hoped. Crowley was less guarded, more honest, once he'd had a few drinks in him. They had started with easy questions, little benign curiosities about each other. Crowley's favourite opera? First time time Aziraphale tasted wine? Crowley laughed and teased and they'd get sidetracked by some debate or another before returning with another question. </p><p> </p><p>What Aziraphale failed to take into account was how his new relationship with the demon would alter his own demeanor when soused. Aziraphale had usually been a muzzy drunk, at times a bit maudlin. Now, he was still muzzy but even more amourous, finding it more than a bit difficult to keep his hands off the gorgeous demon. Sure enough one of their side-tracked moments culminated with Aziraphale coming hard with Crowley's hand down his pants and a long tongue on his throat.</p><p> </p><p>Back on track, Aziraphale advanced his questions: how long had Crowley been depressed? ("Can't remember feeling different," Crowley had responded after a moment. "Went away sometimes, when you'd be around.") Did anything help? (aside from Aziraphale needing rescuing, which didn't need doing nearly so often as Crowley insisted!). This Crowley was unable to answer honestly, but the poor dear really did try. They agreed to revisit the question at a later date.</p><p> </p><p>One of them brought up Thea, started discussing the last time they'd been to the western colony. Aziraphale hadn't had cause to go, but Crowley had been. It had led to another debate about the national dish.</p><p> </p><p>"It's the...oh, I've lost the name...the one with the frites!" Aziraphale insisted.</p><p> </p><p>"It's not," Crowley argued. "It's the peanut butter cup— the buttercup--fucking butter something. Butter tart! That's the one. Useless bloody tongue finally got it out."</p><p> </p><p>"I like your tongue," Aziraphale mused a little too fondly, leading all too quickly to screaming Crowley's name into a pillow with that tongue wrapped around his spasming effort.</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale had decided to sober up after that. He was worse than useless to Crowley drunk. Crowley had half sobered up to follow suit, taking it as a sign the game was finished. </p><p> </p><p>Now Aziraphale found himself lying alone in the middle of the bed, naked and pleasantly tired—if also quite annoyed at the demon who grinned down at him, fully dressed, <em> from the ceiling! </em></p><p> </p><p>"I wish you'd come down from there," Aziraphale pouted. "It really is disconcerting."</p><p> </p><p>"It's my flat, Angel. I'll lie down where I want."</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale eyed the two dangling ends of the demon's scarf and briefly considered giving them a good yank.</p><p> </p><p>"It wouldn't have anything at all to do with you keeping a physical distance from me?" he asked dryly instead. </p><p> </p><p>"Physical distance?" Crowley rolled his eyes. "Aziraphale, I just got up here for a little rest. You certainly didn't have three screaming orgasms because I was <em>keeping</em> <em>my</em> <em>distance</em>."</p><p> </p><p>"Your clothes are on, and by my count you haven't come once," Aziraphale griped.</p><p> </p><p>Crowley shrugged, uncomfortable, and his eyes roamed. He stared over at his mobile on the bedside table, made a questioning noise then glanced at his watch."</p><p> </p><p>"Is it really half past six?"</p><p> </p><p>"Likely. Don't change the subject."</p><p> </p><p>"Just that I have a text..." Crowley started.</p><p> </p><p>"If it was urgent they would have called."</p><p> </p><p>Crowley sighed, opened his mouth to say something snarky no doubt, but Aziraphale was brimming with anxiety and embarrassment enough as it was. He looked away from the hard yellow eyes and summoned his full outfit to hide his nakedness. Another minor miracle set Crowley's bed to rights. Whatever snide remark Crowley had been contemplating he seemed to think better of it, for which the angel was grateful. He swung his legs over the bed and sat up, thinking over his options while Crowley lay silently above him.</p><p> </p><p>He was fairly certain that Crowley's intimacy issues wouldn't be solved anytime soon, and slightly less certain that those issues lay in the demon's own mind and were not anything to do with Aziraphale but…</p><p> </p><p>"I've been selfish," he muttered.</p><p> </p><p>"Nah, it was my pleasure, really," Crowley quipped from the ceiling. Aziraphale did not look up. The demon's disregard for basic physics made him queasy and it would put an annoying crick in his neck. </p><p> </p><p>And he didn't want Crowley to misinterpret the anxiety in his eyes.</p><p> </p><p>"I shouldn't have pushed you, Crowley. I'm sorry."</p><p> </p><p>"Aw, Angel," Crowley sounded more serious now. "You didn't push me to do anything. I was always under my own power."</p><p> </p><p>"You won't let me touch you." Aziraphale sighed, pained. "And I won't rush you, dear. I promise, but…" he rose from the bed then, and Crowley immediately dropped down on the mattress.</p><p> </p><p>"But?"</p><p> </p><p>"I just wish I understood. I don't want to be <em> serviced </em> , Crowley. I want <em> you </em>."</p><p> </p><p>Crowley gritted his teeth, glaring down at his hands. "I know you're trying to help, Angel, but you <em> can't </em> understand and that's the problem," Crowley growled. "I'm an obsessive broken creature, and that's not going to change overnight."</p><p> </p><p>"This is where I believe I went wrong," Aziraphale murmured. He reached to touch the demon's cheek before remembering Crowley's aversion to soft touch. He let his arm fall. "I fear I made you think you <em> had </em> to change, that you weren't perfectly wonderful exactly as you are."</p><p> </p><p>"Aziraphale," Crowley groaned, cheeks flushed. He turned away, hiding his face. "That sounds very <em> pretty </em>, but I’m not even remotely all right the way I am. The things I’ve done...the things I want..."</p><p> </p><p>"Tell me, dear heart."</p><p> </p><p>"It's stupid nonsense, really, and…" Crowley ground his teeth loudly enough Aziraphale could hear it. "...<em> base. </em>It would infuriate you, Angel. I'd drive you away. Or worse you'd feel compelled to—out of love or pity— I couldn't stand that!"</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale pursed his lips, trying to untangle the bind Crowley had just put him in. The demon's depression was as wily as the demon himself.</p><p> </p><p>"So, if I don't understand whatever you are struggling with it is because I am angry or disgusted, however if I try to help it will only be out of pity or naivety, is that it? No other possible options exist?"</p><p> </p><p>Crowley sighed, and it sounded hopeless. Aziraphale knelt before him, taking the demon's hands in his own. Crowley flinched slightly but Aziraphale held on.</p><p> </p><p>"I adore you," Aziraphale whispered. "I will <em> never </em> leave you, Crowley."</p><p> </p><p>"I get something in my mind sometimes and I can't let it go, Angel," Crowley confessed. He lifted Aziraphale's hands to his lips, nuzzled them, squeezing his eyes closed. "In Paris, after I saved you from getting your fool head removed, you took me for crepes. I watched you eat and this thought just snuck in my head. I didn't realize I was even <em> thinking </em> it until it was woven inextricably in my fucking brain."</p><p> </p><p>"What thought, Crowley?"</p><p> </p><p>Crowley flushed crimson, continuing to avoid Aziraphale's gaze.</p><p> </p><p>"You. You slipping <em> me </em> through those beautiful plush lips. You moaning so beautifully around <em> me </em> , swallowing <em> me </em> down."</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale bit the inside of his cheek and squeezed his knees together to control his arousal. He gently moved his thumb over Crowley's hand and was relieved that Crowley let him.</p><p> </p><p>"You left back to England and I stayed behind in France. I couldn't get the image out of my head. I'd do the odd job for head office, kept busy but the thought of you and your hot pink mouth would keep interrupting me. Nothing got rid of it so I just went to sleep for a couple decades and when I woke up I was free of it."</p><p> </p><p>"Are you similarly afflicted now, my dear?" Aziraphale asked but he already knew. Crowley's dark fantasy had insinuated itself in his mind. The demon wanted to be punished.</p><p> </p><p>"I won’t burden you with this, Aziraphale. This image isn't at all <em> you.</em> I know that. It isn't what I even really <em> want </em>—at least not all the time—but I can't stop running it over in my head and I'll hurt you, or I'll make you hurt me which will hurt you. I'm…" he laughed bitterly. “I'm a fucking mess."</p><p> </p><p>Crowley kissed Aziraphale's hands, then stood and walked out of the angel's reach to collect his glasses and phone from the other side of the bed.</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale sighed. He needed to collect his thoughts. It was going to take time and great care to unravel Crowley's tapestry of self-hatred.</p><p> </p><p>"Shit," Crowley growled, and Aziraphale looked up at the worry in his tone. </p><p> </p><p>"Oh Lord," Aziraphale frowned. "What has she done now?'</p><p> </p><p>Crowley handed Aziraphale the mobile. A text from Thea illuminated the screen.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Heading into the basement. Feels like someone needs help. Might all be in my head. Will text back if it's nothing.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>"You have a basement?' Aziraphale asked, trying to figure out how to see if Thea texted again. He looked up again and Crowley had vanished. </p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p> </p><p>Thea wasn't in her flat. Crowley swore, feeling some uncomfortable <em> deja vu, </em>and summoned himself to the lobby. He hadn't thought about the basement in ages. The building ran off his expectations, something he had perfect control over 70% of the time and wouldn't be solved by a fuse panel the other 30%. So he had quite forgotten about the old door that was now held open on badly corroded hinges.</p><p> </p><p>He felt the creep frost of fear crawl up his spine and grit his teeth as it melted into anger. Who, or what would have lured Thea down <em> there </em>?</p><p> </p><p>Why would the stupid girl keep wandering into danger like this? She was as bad as Aziraphale.</p><p> </p><p>"Oi!" He called from the top of the stairs. He saw Aziraphale appear in the lobby in his peripheral vision. "You alive down there, you bloody idiot?"</p><p> </p><p>"Crowley! Hi! Is it morning?" Thea called back from somewhere outside his vision. She sounded odd. Manic. Excited. Crowley frowned. He could see the damage to the steps. It looked like she had fallen through. He glanced at Aziraphale. The angel was peering over his shoulder, confused. Concerned. </p><p> </p><p>Crowley snapped and the long dormant light bulbs flickered to life, bathing the basement in light. Crowley was at the bottom of the stairs in an instant, wary and angry.</p><p> </p><p>Thea was a fucking sight. Her hair was a tangled mess and her pyjama leg was soaked in blood. Crowley could smell the metallic tang of it over decades of dust. She was sitting on a couch, petting what looked like a filthy red dog. </p><p> </p><p>"What the fuck are you doing down here?" Crowley hissed. "And what is <em> that </em>?"</p><p> </p><p>Thea grinned at him. “I <em> felt her </em>all the way in my room! She must have come in the broken window and gotten trapped. I didn't know it was—well, I thought it was a person, but—I mean, a life is a life right?" she babbled quickly. She rubbed her eyes and grinned anew as Aziraphale appeared in the basement, cringing at all the dust and grime. No doubt worried about his dry cleaning. </p><p> </p><p>"Aziraphale! I did it! Look!" She squealed, jumping up from the couch and showing off her bloodied leg. Aziraphale rushed to her side then while Thea continued to speak as if she'd downed 20 cups of espresso, but Crowley was distracted by the furry lump which lifted its head finally and revealed itself to be a damn <em> fox </em>.</p><p> </p><p>"Ugh!" Crowley recoiled and immediately banished the vermin outside. Thea stopped yammering at poor Aziraphale and stilled for the first time, frowning anxiously at where the fox had been.</p><p> </p><p>“Where is she? What did you do?!” </p><p> </p><p>Crowley glared at her. She was clearly off her nut. “I put it outside where it bloody belongs!”</p><p> </p><p>Thea scowled at him then, and Crowley squared off with her, sick to fucking death of her antics. He was trying to keep her safe! That wasn’t something that came naturally to him (with one notable exception) and she wasn’t making it any easier with shit like this. The scent of her blood in the air was making him sick.</p><p> </p><p>“You can’t!” she shouted, slicing the air with her hand in a gesture of outrage. “She was hurt and—”</p><p> </p><p>She didn’t understand. She wouldn’t listen. She wouldn’t stop. She wouldn’t fucking learn! Crowley snarled and grabbed her by her shoulders, shoving her into the wall behind her.</p><p> </p><p>“You fucking came down here because of a idiotic <em> feeling </em> ? Didn’t you think it could have been a <em> fucking trap?! </em>”</p><p> </p><p>Thea’s eyes went wide as her back hit the concrete wall. A startled gasp fled from her lips, stirring a strand of brown hair, which floated around her cheek as the dusty air of the basement shifted eerily and filled with the scent of ozone.</p><p> </p><p>Crowley, it seemed, also wouldn’t fucking learn.</p><p> </p><p>Several things seemed to happen then at once. </p><p> </p><p>First, he heard Aziraphale worriedly call his name just as Crowley was telling him to stay the fuck back. He loosened his grip on Thea’s shoulders, ready to step away but she grabbed him back by the lapels of his jacket, gripping him tightly with a harsh, ragged hiss. “Crowley, no! Don’t move!”</p><p> </p><p>And then the lightning was upon them, the way it had zipped and sparked through Thea the other night in the lobby. Crowley froze, staring into her wide fearful eyes, as the green arcs of light crawled along Thea’s arms, moving seamlessly over his own fingers where he gripped her shoulders. It didn’t hurt, but he suddenly understood that if he let go now, if either of them moved, he’d likely be flung against the far wall, scorched and very dead considering what she’d done to Aziraphale.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s okay,” Thea’s voice shook a little, but she took a ragged calming breath. “It’s okay,” she repeated louder, glancing off to the side where Aziraphale stood, still safely away from them both and no doubt fussing up a storm of his own. “I can fix it,” she told Crowley, quietly. “I just... just don’t move, okay?”</p><p> </p><p>“Uh huh. Great at the whole staying still thing,” Crowley tried to snap, but his voice sounded far too high in his own ears. It felt really bloody strange, like static washing over his skin, lifting his hair, clinging to his clothing. He flinched as it sparked against the metal hinges in his glasses. Thea tightened her grip on his jacket.</p><p> </p><p>“Keep your feet planted,” she told him, and this time her voice was much calmer. “I can do this, Crowley. I can control it.”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley opened his eyes (he didn’t remember squeezing them shut) and nodded. Thea was looking up at him, her two-toned eyes held that look of determination and optimism that he was starting to fully associate with her. He nodded again, and tried to relax as the electricity continued to jump and crawl over their bodies. </p><p> </p><p>It was feeling a little <em> good </em> now, which was disconcerting. Not 'good' in a groin-grabbing way (oh look, a kink he <em> didn’t </em> have) but... fuck, Crowley hadn’t experienced enough good feelings to be able to relate this to <em> anything </em> . He felt excited, jumpy ( <em> keep your feet planted. Don’t move) </em>. His heart was beating loudly in his chest and it wasn’t all terror. It was the 20 cups of espresso that had Thea rambling at the speed of light earlier. It was excruciating and fantastic and Crowley felt like he had just taken some excellent drugs. </p><p> </p><p>Thea took another steadying breath and the crawling staticky sensation began to ebb, pulling up from his legs and back down his arms, leaving his body and withdrawing back into Thea’s. A moment later the basement began to return to normal and the scent of ozone faded. Thea sagged a little, stumbling forward slightly and Crowley steadied her, letting her rest her forehead against his chest. His nerves were still alight. He felt wired, charged, (other electricity themed adjectives).</p><p> </p><p>“A couple of notes. One, could you please stop spooking me until I get this thing under control?” she laughed weakly, her voice slightly muffled by his jacket.</p><p> </p><p>“Uh...yep,” he squeaked. He finally managed a glance over at Aziraphale who was staring at them with fleeting expressions of fear, relief, anger, and fondness. Honestly the emotional Olympics the angel was used to must be staggering. That thought was sticky for Crowley and he tried to shove it away before it became glued in his brain, yet another thing to have to figure out. </p><p> </p><p>“It isn’t personal,” Aziraphale told Thea, his voice sounded cold as he finally shuffled closer. “He has a thing for shoving people into walls. You’re lucky you didn’t insult him by suggesting he was nice.”</p><p> </p><p>“Aw, that was <em> one time </em>!” Crowley snapped. It wasn’t. It had happened many times in their long history together and they both knew it.  “I’ll do my best,” Crowley muttered. “What’s the other thing?”</p><p> </p><p>“Your basement stairs are a safety hazard.”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley rolled his eyes and gently pushed her away from him. No one was <em> supposed </em> to come down here, where they? It reminded him that he was annoyed with her. She was being super annoying, but she was human and a young one at that. She was supposed to be stupid. What was Crowley’s excuse? </p><p> </p><p>There was a snuffling whine coming from the window and Crowley growled when he saw it was the bloody fox again. It lowered its head, yellow eyes blazing down at yellow eyes, and growled back. Crowley repaired the window with a casual gesture, trapping the creature outside. He heard Thea's frustrated sigh and rounded on her again.</p><p> </p><p>"No! That's not a fucking pet. It's a bus for parasites!"</p><p> </p><p>“Are you both <em>all</em> <em>right</em>?” Aziraphale fretted, his voice raised to carry over Crowley’s shouting. </p><p> </p><p>Crowley looked back at Aziraphale, saw the worried crease between his pale eyes, the nearly frantic twitch of his blunt fingers as they twisted the hem of his waistcoat. Crowley took in the barely restrained panic in the angel’s posture and expression and realized he wasn’t even remotely ‘all right’. He was making a mess of things. Again!</p><p> </p><p>“I need—Sorry, Angel. My fault—I shouldn’t have—” Crowley’s whole being twitched, wanting to console Aziraphale, wanting to run away to think (to forget), not knowing the words to say. Aziraphale would know the right words. He’d help Crowley dictate them if he could. How fucked up was that?</p><p> </p><p>“I’m just going to nip up to the flat for a bit,” he choked out finally and let himself escape back up through the concrete floors of the building, following his instinct to run and hide and deal with the crippling consequences another time.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>*****</p><p> </p><p>“That was weird,” Thea grumbled after Crowley had vanished. Aziraphale felt his shoulders sag. It was getting to be a bit much. He loved Crowley desperately, wanted to help him, wanted <em> him </em> so much it hurt sometimes, but he was beginning to feel depleted. He really needed a better plan. He dearly wished there was a book that would cover easing an emotionally constipated demon out of their shell.</p><p> </p><p>"I don't know if you noticed, what with all the shoving and lightning," Thea started, interrupting his thoughts. "I healed my leg! See?"</p><p> </p><p>She lifted her pyjama leg, badly crusted in dried blood, to show her wound. Aziraphale crouched to inspect it more closely, wincing in sympathy. It was <em> not </em> healed, in fact. The skin had begun to knit together and the bleeding had stopped, but the wound was still pink and half open. Aziraphale waved his hand over torn skin, erasing the injury completely. When he stood again Thea looked disappointed.</p><p> </p><p>"Oh. Thanks. That's better," she shrugged.</p><p> </p><p>"Sorry, should I not have—"</p><p> </p><p>"No, it's fine—"</p><p> </p><p>"It looked painful so I thought—"</p><p> </p><p>Another squealing whine sounded above them and Aziraphale cocked his head in surprise, seeing the fox had found its way into the lobby. </p><p> </p><p>"As I was trying to tell Crowley, Roan was calling me last night. She was injured and scared. I tried to heal her and look! She's better. And my leg really was a mess, Aziraphale. I know I didn't do a perfect job but it stopped bleeding and—"</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale felt overwhelmed. This was all so far outside what he was used to. He needed a cup of tea. The fox was on its side, giving a loud, incessant open-mouthed whine as it struggled to better see Thea from the basement door. The sound was grating. Aziraphale pressed his fingers into his temple and closed his eyes for a moment. </p><p> </p><p>"Would it be all right if we continued this conversation in your flat?" he asked. Thea glanced up at the fox, forlorn. "We can... bring your friend," he assured her. Her eyes brightened and the fox fell silent immediately.</p><p> </p><p>This partially confirmed Aziraphale's theory. The two shared an empathic bond. Aziraphale had mistakenly caused the same thing to occur very early on in Egypt when he was healing a number of creatures after a storm. He had ended up over-extending himself and an ibis had followed him loyally for fifteen years.</p><p> </p><p>So he snapped and summoned them both up to Thea's flat. The fox shook its head, the flopple-flopple of its large ears audible across the room. It was remarkably calm for having been teleported up several floors. Another minor miracle ensured the orange-red coat was clean and fluffy and the animal was free of any parasites. The rotten demon wouldn't be able to complain about <em> that </em> at least. Maybe that wasn’t very fair <em> . </em> Crowley wasn't <em> rotten </em>. Just… Aziraphale simply needed some tea, that's all.</p><p> </p><p>"I need to check on Crowley," Aziraphale bit out quickly. He once again felt pulled in two directions. "Thea my dear, you've done amazingly well. I'm sorry if I undermined your accomplishment by healing you. You really should be very proud."</p><p> </p><p>"Really?" Thea seemed cautious now. "I mean, it was mostly an accident, and now I have a fox. It seems like I kinda messed it up. All <em> you </em>have to do is wave and everything is perfect." </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Not everything. Not even close to everything. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>"Perhaps, but I didn't have to <em>learn </em>any of it," he assured her, resting a hand on her shoulder. "I was created to be exactly what I am. I sprang into being knowing how to be an angel, ready to serve. Miracles are simply part of my existence and there are plenty of things I’m powerless to fix, mysteries I’ve no answers for. Humans are not meant to do any of the things you are learning to do and it has only been weeks. This is entirely unprecedented. You are doing a remarkable job, Thea. I mean it. Truly."</p><p> </p><p>Thea's eyes brimmed with tears and she threw her arms around him, hugging him tightly. Aziraphale really did want to check on Crowley as soon as possible, but <em> this </em>he could make time for. He folded Thea into his arms, resting his cheek on top of her head and breathing in the simple joy of comfort received and accepted. </p><p> </p><p>"For what it's worth coming from a dumb human," she mumbled into his shoulder, "I think you're probably a great deal <em> more </em> than what you were created to be, Aziraphale."</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale smiled at that, was about to probably say something trite when he felt <em> love. </em>A simple, warm, honest love.</p><p> </p><p>Oh.</p><p> </p><p>Thea <em> loved </em> him. An angel. She seemed to despise angels but she loved him.</p><p> </p><p>"That means more to me than you know," he whispered into her hair.</p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p> </p><p>Crowley paced his hallway, running his frantic hands through his hair. He kept trying to reassure his screaming nerves that there was no need to panic. He was just juiced up. He'd come down soon. Ugh, and that would be awful too. He went into his kitchen, flinging open a cupboard, desperate for some calming tea. </p><p> </p><p>He stilled, staring at the neatly stacked plates and fine porcelain cups. Aziraphale had gotten them. Aziraphale had gotten him most of his furniture as well. Things that turned his stark concrete/metal/glass quarters into something actually somewhat comfortable. It was still <em> mostly </em> empty but Crowley had been intentionally lax defending his kitchen and sitting room against Aziraphale's decorative onslaught.</p><p> </p><p>He had gotten used to having Aziraphale in his space. He didn't mind the changes. He was surprised how quickly he had adapted to them.</p><p> </p><p>It wasn't subtle (Aziraphale was seldom subtle really) and he had baulked at the suggestions, pulling faces and making angry noises whenever a new table, seat, rug, vase of dumb flowers appeared, breaking apart his emptiness like so many blessed islands in a vast lifeless sea and <em> that is definitely not a fucking metaphor or anything </em>.</p><p> </p><p>Thinking of the angel reminded him of the parade of emotions he'd seen wash across Aziraphale's pale face in the basement. The sticky thought that followed. Aziraphale was troubled. He'd been troubled for a while, hadn't he? Shit! How long? How long? Why hadn't the demon been paying more attention?</p><p> </p><p>Crowley growled to himself, rubbing his knuckles into his temples before forcing himself into the 1-2-3 steps of making tea.</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale had kept showing up in the weeks after they won their freedom. Always checking in on Crowley, making sure he was staying out of trouble, he said. Wanting to be sure he understood they needn't part ways yet. Crowley had been insulted, bothered, secretly relieved. How was he only considering <em> now </em> that Aziraphale might have been afraid? Might have needed comfort?</p><p> </p><p>Crowley thought back to that panic attack in the shop. How many of those had the angel suffered through alone, tears soaking into that ridiculous bow tie?</p><p> </p><p>Heaven had cast him out! </p><p> </p><p>He was never really at home there but he was an angel and he did believe in God and the righteousness of Her plans and now he was cast out alone with no one on his side except Crowley.</p><p> </p><p>And Crowley was falling apart, pushing away, being a twat and giving Aziraphale those little worry lines about the eyes.</p><p> </p><p>"Oh, there you are, dear," Aziraphale was saying from the hall. Crowley hadn't noticed him come in. "Are you making tea? Oh bless you, darling. That is exactly what I was hoping to do."</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale paused when he entered the kitchen and took in Crowley's harried state. Crowley cringed, knowing he looked feral and unkempt. </p><p> </p><p>And Aziraphale <em> sighed </em> and it sounded exhausted. His plush lips were tucked in a slight frown, his blond brows drawn together in concern. The lines of worry on his beautiful pale face. Crowley did that.</p><p> </p><p>"I'm—it's just all that electricity, Angel," Crowley squeaked. "I'm fine. Don't worry. Just a bit jangly and—"</p><p> </p><p>"Are you hurt?" Aziraphale stepped forward, reached for him then suddenly snatched his hand away as if Crowley had burned him. A nervous flush crept across the angel's cheeks and he dropped his gaze apologetically. Crowley remembered. He <em> had </em> burned him, in a way.</p><p> </p><p>"Fuuuck, Angel," he moaned. "I'm sorry. Look, you can touch me, all right? In fact <em> please </em> touch me because I could use an anchor point to keep me from floating away under the power of all this static."</p><p> </p><p>He grinned sheepishly, tried to make light of it, but he really was feeling a little floaty.</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale smiled tightly but kept his hands to himself. Crowley's stomach dropped.</p><p> </p><p>"I'm so glad you weren't hurt, Crowley. I think it best if you keep those wall slams reserved for just me, Hmm?" His words sounded light. His voice, less so.</p><p> </p><p>"Yep. Will do, Angel!"</p><p> </p><p>"Excellent. Would you mind bringing me a cup when the tea is ready?" Aziraphale asked, stepping away. "I'm feeling a bit overwhelmed and I'd like to sit down and go over some notes." </p><p> </p><p>Crowley watched the angel drift into the sitting room and sort through a few books there. </p><p> </p><p>"Do you need any books from the study? I could get them," he offered quickly.</p><p> </p><p>"Not just now, thank you," came the perfectly polite reply. </p><p> </p><p>"You said you were selfish," Crowley blurted out, surprising both of them.</p><p> </p><p>"I beg your pardon?" Aziraphale demanded, affronted.</p><p> </p><p>"Erm. This...this morning— well, earlier this morning— but I've been— shit, wait, no. Let me start over!"</p><p> </p><p>"I wish you would," Aziraphale chided.</p><p> </p><p>"Angel, you have been looking after me ever since the trials," Crowley began slowly. He turned his scarf over in his hands. "You lost more than I did, Aziraphale. I'm <em> glad </em>to be rid of Hell. Of course I am. No real loss there, but you? I know what it is to be cast out of Heaven. You didn't fall and I am so fucking glad you didn't fall, but I'm not surprised either. Aziraphale you are a better angel than the lot of them and you deserve so much more than the shitty deal you got."</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale looked confused, pausing in the middle of opening a book, looking at Crowley as if he'd grown another head.</p><p> </p><p>"Fuck, I'm not explaining this right. Look, you have your own pain and fear and I've seen it. I know you're tired and yet you just keep fucking going. You just rush in to help Thea, to take on everything that means. You keep trying to help <em> me </em> and you do it all with this light and strength and you do it despite everything you've lost and I—"</p><p> </p><p>He stepped forward, took the book from the angel's hands. "I'm in awe of you, Aziraphale," he whispered. "I just wanted you to know."</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale didn't answer. Crowley played it all back in his mind, his eyes going wide behind his glasses, his cheeks aflame. That was too much! The kettle clicked off in the kitchen. He seized the excuse to escape.</p><p> </p><p>"Well, that was— erm, sorry," he mumbled, running his hand through his hair and shuffling away. "Sorry, I'll just get that tea you asked for."</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale took his hand before he made it out of reach. "You are in awe?" he asked and Crowley finally looked up into loving, tearful eyes. "Of <em> me</em>?"</p><p> </p><p>"'Course I am, Angel," Crowley shrugged. "You're... incredibl—mff!"</p><p> </p><p>Crowley staggered back slightly, knocked off balance by the sudden hot kiss and Aziraphale pressed his advantage, keeping the demon propelled backwards until he connected with the wall. The kiss was firm, insistent, but also loving and a quick debate flared and died in Crowley's brain.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> No. Make it rougher. You don't deserve anything this sweet. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Aziraphale likes sweet. Give him sweet. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Crowley let his hands lightly drift up the angel's back, pulling him in a little, feeling his sparking nerves settle as he focused on the smooth drag of fine wool against his fingers. Aziraphale happily pressed in, moving his mouth eagerly over Crowley's, sighing pleasantly when he parted his lips so the angel could deepen the kiss.</p><p> </p><p>Crowley shuddered at the feel of Aziraphale's hot breath against his tongue, and his fingers trembled as he touched the angel's soft cheeks, following the trail of wetness for his tears.</p><p> </p><p>"You're crying," he gasped. "Wait, Angel. I'm sorry. What's wrong?"</p><p> </p><p>"Nothing, you silly snake," Aziraphale laughed. "Your words were just so beautiful. You're beautiful and I was just a little...caught up in the moment. That's all."</p><p> </p><p>"Oh," Crowley breathed, surprised. "Okay then? You're not... upset?"</p><p> </p><p>"Goodness, no!" Aziraphale laughed again, patting Crowley's cheek. "Imagine thinking I'd be <em> upset </em> at such lovely words."</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale sighed, closing his eyes and pressing a soft kiss against Crowley's lips. It was chaste and short and hinted at their parting. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Because Crowley didn't like intimacy, like a fucking cliché. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>"We could kiss more," he offered, feeling sheepish, failing to find an appropriate witticism for the moment. Aziraphale smiled.</p><p> </p><p>"We could…" Aziraphale pretended to mull it over. Crowley smirked at his angel being such a little shit. "I wouldn't want to frighten you away though..." he whispered against Crowley's smirking lips. "With my dreaded gentleness."</p><p> </p><p>"Not much chance of getting gentleness with this attitude, Angel," Crowley growled, taking Aziraphale's mouth with his.</p><p> </p><p>But it was gentle. Somehow, after all the jittery nerves and embarrassing confessions Crowley found himself breathing in the softest, sweetest kisses he'd ever imagined. The angel's lips and tongue melted and danced with his. He was enthralled with the simple heat of it, and the tacit permission to take his time here. He felt welcomed in Aziraphale's arms. He had cautious feelings about <em> that </em> but he tried to ignore them, tried to let Aziraphale lead.</p><p> </p><p>He drew in a shaky breath, letting his head fall back against the wall as the angel set about sucking a sizable mark into the side of his throat, when they heard a surprised gasp from the doorway. That couldn’t be right. Crowley’s door was always locked. Aziraphale was the only other entity allowed in.</p><p> </p><p>They froze, Crowley was confused. Aziraphale looked guilty. Thea stood in the <em> open </em>door, clapping her hands excitedly with a little squeal of delight. She’d showered, her hair still damp and wavy, and changed. And now she was here, staring at them as though they were a couple of adorable puppies. </p><p> </p><p>Crowley cut off his own snarl by dropping into snake form and hiding under the couch. That was the fastest he'd ever gone from relaxed to furious and he could be pretty quick on the draw. (The secret was to never relax!) It would be his kind of luck to lash out (again) and get himself zapped. </p><p> </p><p>"Aww," he heard Thea complain. "He noped out.” He felt the cushions bounce above him as the girl hopped into the couch.</p><p> </p><p>"My fault, Crowley," Aziraphale's voice rang out from above. "I asked her to come up when she had cleaned up and gotten some rest. I left the door open so that she could let herself in."</p><p> </p><p>Crowley peeked his head out from below the couch to glare at Aziraphale.</p><p> </p><p>"My wardsss won't be much ussse if you leave the fucking door open!”</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale huffed. "I suppose that's true. I wasn't really expecting an attack. I figured I might be absorbed in my book and I wasn't sure if you'd be napping or not." His blue eyes shot up to where Thea was sitting. "I <em> did </em> think you would take longer to rest."</p><p> </p><p>"Not tired. Got a good shot of energy from the lightning."</p><p> </p><p>Crowley hissed, getting Aziraphale's attention. "We <em> should </em> expect my former ssside to try sssomething. You both need to be more careful!"</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale frowned. "All right, Crowley. I will be sure to keep the doors closed from now on. But so far our greatest threat seems to be Thea."</p><p> </p><p>"Because she's alssso being completely reckless! Going into th— "</p><p> </p><p>Thea reached down from the couch to poke him. "Boop."</p><p> </p><p>" — baseme— FUCK!" Crowley vanished back under the couch. "THEA GO TAKE A FUCKING NAP!"</p><p> </p><p>"It really might be best if you go back to yours for a bit," Aziraphale told her, a lot more kindly. Crowley felt her move off the couch, heard her retreating footsteps as she left the flat with no argument. He peeked out and Aziraphale had left his field of view as well. He returned to human form and found the angel in the kitchen again making the tea.</p><p> </p><p>"Before you scold me again for leaving the door open, or run off in a fit of humiliation, I'd like to kindly suggest that Thea knowing about us is probably for the best,"  Aziraphale contended. The chilly tone was back.</p><p> </p><p>“I guess she’d figure it out sooner or later,” Crowley admitted. “We’re not great at hiding it.”</p><p> </p><p>“You wanted to hide it?” Aziraphale asked. He looked hurt. Crowley swore under his breath.</p><p> </p><p>“No!” He growled, angry with himself for constantly tripping on his own tongue. “I’m just <em> used </em> to hiding it. I’ve been hiding it for thousands of years!”</p><p> </p><p>“I understand,” Aziraphale murmured, but he looked uncertain, annoyed. Crowley wasn’t sure what to say. He shuffled his feet, poured himself a cup of tea from the pot even though it was still too weak. Retreated to the sitting room. </p><p> </p><p>He knew Aziraphale was desperate to <em> talk </em> . That wasn’t surprising, but <em> Crowley </em> was beginning to feel the weight of all the unspoken words and that was decidedly new. They would have to talk, and soon, but what to say? Where to even begin? They had been on opposite sides (or pretending to be) forever and suddenly all their careful rules were just gone.  How was Crowley supposed to navigate through this frustrating epoch of so-called freedom? Where nothing stood between them anymore except all the barriers Crowley found inside himself.</p><p> </p><p>He listened to the sounds of Aziraphale procrastinating in the kitchen. Normally Aziraphale would have brought the tea out on a tray by now. Was he trying to give Crowley some space? Was he embarrassed after being discovered by Thea and only pretending not to be? He knew the angel wanted to understand Crowley’s reticence to kind touch and to drag out the sordid tales of his trauma, and Crowley had shut him down each time. He also knew the angel was angry with him. He could sense the fury sweeping in like fog from the kitchen. Maybe Aziraphale was giving up? Maybe that terse ‘I understand’ was just angel for ‘I don’t care anymore’.</p><p> </p><p>“If you’re feeling alright, I think I might actually adjourn back to the shop for the remainder of the day,” Aziraphale called from the kitchen. An unspeakable cold swept up Crowley’s spine and his hands shook so suddenly the tea spilt over his fingers. The scald pinkened his skin but he barely noticed. "Might be best for you to lay your head down too. For a little while, at least."</p><p> </p><p>“Er,” he stood, walked slowly over to where Aziraphale was fussing with his pocket watch. “You’re heading out?” </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> You’re heading out? What an idiotic thing to say. He just said he was going. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, well,” the angel nodded, offering a weak smile. “I have a few books back at the shop that I think will yield more information on Thea’s empathic link to Roan. I have some journals from my time in Egypt during the early 13th century, transcribed of course, and—”</p><p> </p><p>“You kept a diary?” Crowley smirked, momentarily distracted from his worries. Of course the angel had kept a diary. Probably had ever since writing was invented. The demon itched to get his hands on those volumes, scan for his name, draw rude little pictures in the margins for Aziraphale to find a century later when it was time to transcribe— wait, what?</p><p> </p><p>“Thea’s empathic link to whom? What link? Who’s Roan?”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh yes,” Aziraphale looked a bit put out. “Well, before I go, I suppose I ought to tell you about the fox.”</p><p> </p><p>Ten minutes later, Crowley’s tantrum had shattered the teacup in his hand, starting another argument with Aziraphale, who laid down the fucking law.</p><p> </p><p>“The fox stays. That is final.”</p><p> </p><p>And it was, because the angel left and Crowley was swallowed up by the silence of the flat, the void left from too much fine wool and satin, the crushing weight of everything left unsaid.</p><p>
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  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>*Edit* Wow! Thank you everyone who commented. I'm glad you're invested and I hear you and I will fix it, I promise...eventually.<br/>All of three of these characters are traumatized stubborn weirdos processing their feelings in very different ways, and they are all trying to do better, really, but they are also very very stupid. They need to talk. They're probably not going to do that in a mature constructive manner.</p><p>What I can promise you is a happy ending for the husbands. They just have to make it through their monumental fuckload of jackassery first.<br/>As always, please keep up the comments because they make me write faster :D</p>
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<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Ice Cream and Frangelico</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>It was difficult for Aziraphale to admit that he was angry, even to himself. Anger wasn’t a very productive emotion, and he never really understood what to do with it. It just swirled around in his chest, making him feel heavy and sick until he finally got to a point where he could move on. It was far better to forgive. Turn the other cheek. </p><p>Aziraphale didn’t want to turn the other cheek. He wanted to slap one, and that was very difficult to admit, even to himself.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I love writing in Crowley’s POV because he is the most unreliable narrator.</p><p>Full disclosure, there is another argument coming in this chapter but it does bring some good resolution (and lots of smut). It is often said that these two only have one brain cell between them and Aziraphale is usually in possession of it. Other times Crowley might have it, or it could just be lost under a couch. This chapter is definitely a couch scenario.</p><p>On the matter of Demon Catnip, it should be mentioned that its effects are like that of a good heady buzz off fine wine and does not produce any greater impairment than that. (At least in <i>this universe</i>. It is a lot stronger in TTWBAD)</p><p>My thanks to PinkPenguinParade for turning my slop into something sharable.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
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  <em> Sometimes I feel like I wanna go back </em>
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  <em> To a time before my mind turned black </em>
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  <em> I miss the way it was </em>
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  <em> When instead of just my gooey brains </em>
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  <em> All that melted was popsicles and the rain just pelted down </em>
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  <em> Down on me </em>
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  <em> Make me into more than a goner </em>
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  <em> Perhaps a little bit stronger </em>
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  <em> Thicker skin, less needy, </em>
</p><p>
  <em> And maybe to not bruise so damn easily, but you can't </em>
</p><p>
  <em> And I won't </em>
</p><p> </p><p><span class="u"> <em> Waves </em> </span> <em> - Chloe Moriondo </em></p><p><br/>
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</p><p>It was difficult for Aziraphale to admit that he was angry, even to himself. Anger wasn’t a very productive emotion, and he never really understood what to do with it. It just swirled around in his chest, making him feel heavy and sick until he finally got to a point where he could move on. It was far better to forgive. Turn the other cheek. </p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale didn’t <em> want </em> to turn the other cheek. He wanted to <em>slap </em>one, and that was very difficult to admit, even to himself.</p><p> </p><p>It was safer for him to think these things here, alone in the back room of his shop. This was his space, and he felt safest here. It was too good to be back after spending so much time in the severe, cold, uncomfor—well. Crowley’s space wasn’t really to his taste. Especially at the moment, what with the new slapping urge and all.</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale set his old journals aside and brought his palm down hard on the surface of the desk to see if he could rid himself of the anger that way. His hand stung, and he instantly felt guilty and embarrassed. And he was still angry.</p><p> </p><p>He vanished his journals back to his safe and pulled out a 15th century text on demonology. It was unlikely to hold any answers, but might at least hold Aziraphale’s interest and give his heart a break for a couple hours. He leafed through the old pages carefully, his mind still darting around like a startled caged bird.</p><p> </p><p>Crowley had nearly gotten himself discorportated!—and discorportation held a distinct threat of finality for them now since it was unlikely they’d be given new bodies and allowed to return to Earth—and all because of a temper tantrum! Aziraphale had given him his heart, confessed his love, and Crowley very nearly thrown away everything in a thoughtless, brainless, <em> stupid— </em></p><p> </p><p><em>No</em>. Best not to dwell on it. Angels are meant to be forgiving. </p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale took a calming breath and read another few pages. This author was quite pedantic, and incredibly thorough. It was the kind of reading that Aziraphale tended to find rather soothing. A sound choice for the moment.</p><p> </p><p><em> And another thing! </em> What was the demon playing at, telling Aziraphale over and over that he couldn’t be bothered with loving touches and then suddenly come out with a romantic overture so beautiful that he could feel the love rolling off him, no matter how much Crowley tried to hide behind his glasses. And the kiss! It was so soft and kind and everything Aziraphale wanted to give so badly and was now afraid to. Crowley had him second guessing his every action. </p><p> </p><p>He turned the page a touch too quickly and the brittle parchment tore under his fingers. Aziraphale sighed and repaired it with a wave. It was no use. Perhaps he would be better served taking a walk, or cleaning the shop. Something active to burn away this nervous energy.</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale was about to close the book when he noticed a paragraph about incense at the bottom of the page with an interesting property. His eyes widened and he eagerly turned the page (and the other cheek), his anger set aside.</p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p> </p><p>“Can I come in?” Crowley asked, trying not to sound as dejected as he felt at the moment. Thea waved him in from where she stood in her kitchen. Crowley entered and closed the door behind him,<em> since he was clearly the only one who knew how to </em> do <em> that. </em> Honestly, why even have wards?</p><p> </p><p>“You should keep the door closed,” he reminded her anyway, flopping onto her couch. He startled the fox (he hadn’t noticed it curled up there) which barked a litany of squeaks before jumping up on the loveseat and curling up again. Crowley glared at it but said nothing, remembering Aziraphale’s proclamation on the subject. <em> The fox stays. That’s final. </em></p><p> </p><p>“You all right?” Thea asked, her eyes concerned. “Where’s Aziraphale?”</p><p> </p><p>“Gone,” Crowley lamented, setting his face in his hands.</p><p> </p><p>“Gone?” Thea breathed, very concerned now.</p><p> </p><p>“Back to the shop,” Crowley clarified. He heard her sigh of relief, but she didn’t know what Crowley knew; what those several blocks difference <em> really </em>meant. </p><p> </p><p>Crowley had been turning it around in his head ever since Aziraphale stormed out of the flat. He’d had his heart ripped out by the angel before, most powerfully at the bandstand the week everything was supposed to end, but even then the angel hadn’t been angry with him. He was now. Crowley could smell it. Aziraphale was furious with him and then he left. It couldn’t have been because of the damn fox. It had to be something more. </p><p> </p><p><em> Spin the wheel. Pick a number. What have you done recently that </em> wouldn’t <em> piss the angel off? </em></p><p> </p><p>“Fuck,” he muttered into his palms. </p><p> </p><p>He felt Thea’s blue throw blanket settle around his shoulders. He looked up as she settled down on the couch beside him and handed him a bowl of vanilla ice cream with what smelled like Frangelico drizzled on top.</p><p> </p><p>“Human cure,” she said, smiling sympathetically and picking up her own bowl from the table. “For heartbreak.”</p><p> </p><p>“That fucking obvious, is it?” he groaned.</p><p> </p><p>“Empath,” she shrugged. "And also, you know, your <em> whole face </em>."</p><p> </p><p>Crowley sniffed the bowl. The liqueur was a nice touch. He smiled weakly and took a bite.</p><p> </p><p>“Wanna talk about it or just get drunk?”</p><p> </p><p>“Nothin’ much to say,” he grumbled, stabbing the ice cream with his spoon. “Fucked it up. Always do. Don’t know what I was thinking. A demon and an angel. Fucking stupid, is what it is.”</p><p> </p><p>“Who else would understand you like him though?” Thea ventured, her voice gentle. “I get that it's hard, and probably in ways I’ll never wrap my head around, but you two <em> seem </em> good together. I think it is <em> brave </em>that you told him.”</p><p> </p><p>“Nah. I didn’t tell him anything,” Crowley confessed. “He was having a bit of a panic spell in his shop— Gabriel being the vast cosmic prick and saying— well, then cue <em> me </em>snogging his beautiful face clean off and starting something that would only ever end... badly.” He clicked the teeth to silence himself. Thea sighed.</p><p> </p><p>“Shit. I’m sorry,” she winced. “I hope I didn’t mess things up. Honestly Az told me to just come up when I was clean and dressed and I didn’t know—”</p><p> </p><p>“It wasn’t you,” Crowley assured her. It was him. It was always going to be him.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m just surprised, I guess.” She frowned. “I know I wasn’t supposed to see, but you two looked happy. Even after you slithered off under the couch all prickly, Az was smiling.”</p><p> </p><p>“<em> Az </em>.” Crowley chuckled. “Wait, he was smiling?”</p><p> </p><p>Thea put her hand on his arm, rubbed it gently and Crowley instinctively leaned into the touch, desperate for any friendly gesture. </p><p> </p><p>It was a weird thing to realize, as he suddenly just had, that Aziraphale had <em> never </em> been his <em> friend </em> . A curiosity at first, then an object of secret, illicit comfort, and then the attraction had started (even though he’d done a terrific job of hiding that even from himself.) And before he knew it Crowley was fucking <em> in love </em> with the divine idiot. Had his feelings ever, even briefly, stopped at <em> friendship </em>on their way to destroying him?</p><p> </p><p>The fox was watching him, glanced at Thea, then leapt down and dropped a toy mouse on Crowley’s boot. His mouth twisted in a grimace of disgust but the fox went back to its spot on the loveseat. A gift? Crowley kicked the toy off his boot. Even the vermin was pitying him.</p><p> </p><p>“Can I ask?” Thea began, then cut herself off. Crowley lifted a brow and she gave an apologetic shrug with one shoulder. “What happened? What did he say?”</p><p> </p><p>“Something about needing to get some journals or something,” Crowley mourned. Thea waited expectantly. Crowley moved his melting ice cream around in the bowl with his spoon.</p><p> </p><p>“Um...he left to get more books?” Thea asked, confused.</p><p> </p><p>“<em> He left </em>because I’ve been sending conflicting messages like a broken fucking radio and he’s tired of it! We’ve been dancing around each other for days ever since I lost my bloody mind and attacked you. FUCK I wish I hadn’t done that!”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeeahh,” Thea murmured. “It probably would have been easier on all of us if you hadn’t.” Her voice was gentle. It wasn’t an attack. Just a casual reminder of the facts. What he did wasn’t ever going to be ok. They’d have to move on.</p><p> </p><p>“I know,” he whispered.</p><p> </p><p>“How long have you been together?” she asked. “You mentioned Gabriel being a prick but that seems like it could cover a lot of ground.”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley snorted, and nodded. “Yeah. He’s not been much of a problem for me, but he’s always had a stick up his arse and never seemed to like Aziraphale. This particular bit of prickishness happened the night before I moved you in here.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh!” Thea seemed surprised. “This is really really new, then.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah,” Crowley nodded sadly. “Didn’t take long, did it?”</p><p> </p><p>“Are you <em> sure </em> it's over?” she asked, suspicious. “I mean, if all he <em> said </em> was that he was getting more books…”</p><p> </p><p>“He was angry with me. Demons can feel that shit, Thea,” Crowley snapped. He didn’t want to talk about this anymore. “He said he’d be gone for the rest of the day. He wanted a break from me.”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s...I mean, that’s <em> normal, </em> isn’t it?” Thea winced. Crowley stared at her, unsure if he wanted her to keep talking or to shut up forever.</p><p> </p><p>“I mean, the relationship is new, and you’re both working so hard to help me and it's gotta be stressful. Humans benefit from a bit of space to figure their shit out, and we don’t have thousands of years of it, so...maybe he just needs a safe spot to think?”</p><p> </p><p>“If Aziraphale <em> thinks </em> about this he’ll ditch me all the faster!” Crowley wailed. “That’s the logical thing to do, right? I’m a demon! He’s an angel! I’m this cursed broken ugly thing with filthy dark desires and he’s going to <em> think </em> he’s better off washing his hands of me.”</p><p> </p><p>“Crowley, I don’t —”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, he won’t say he wants to completely abandon me, he wouldn’t dream of it, yeah?” Crowley continued, standing up and thrusting his bowl of melted ice cream back at Thea to facilitate his pacing and wild hand gestures. “No, he’ll just kindly, politely, tell me we’re better off friends. Colleagues, maybe. He’ll cheerfully suggest a new arrangement. He’ll be ever so supportive,” he seethed. Thea had fallen silent, watching him with sympathetic eyes. </p><p> </p><p>“And I’ll agree, because a) I’m the idiot that caused all this and b) what other choice is there? We go our separate ways and don’t see each other for a couple centuries. Well, maybe by then I might be able to go a few hours without thinking about how his mouth feels on my —”<em> Whoops, reel it in Crowley. </em>“...neck.” he finished, blushing.</p><p> </p><p>“Right, so…you’ve had <em> sex </em>,” Thea stated bluntly. “That always complicates things, Crowley. I mean, Aziraphale is so…” she seemed to struggle over a word, “stuffy. Pent up. I could see him needing a couple years to wrap his head around that alone.”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s the weird thing!” Crowley shouted (<em> another </em> weird thing since talking about this was definitely beyond weird but he couldn’t stop.) “He seems more okay with it than I am! I’m the one who's a bloody mess about it!”</p><p> </p><p>“Why?”</p><p> </p><p>“Because! Because for him it is a blessed act of divine fucking love or something and I don’t get to fucking have that!”</p><p> </p><p>“Why not?”</p><p> </p><p>“Jesus, Thea,” Crowley mopped his face with his hand. </p><p> </p><p>“No really,” she pressed. “Why don’t you get to have that?”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley glared at her. “If I told you half of the things I have done on behalf of Hell you would lose what little is left of your fucking little mind,” he hissed. He felt his body grow hot with the pulse of hellfire under his skin. His teeth grew, sharpened. “I have been a demon for over 6000 years, tempting humans into Hell’s fiery embrace. I have done unssspeakable thingsss and caused untold sssuffering and I have never been punished for a sssingle act!” He punctuated this statement with a growl he could feel in his legs. </p><p> </p><p>Thea stared at him, one brow slightly raised. She looked completely unfazed. The fox actually yawned.</p><p> </p><p>“Whose job is that?” she asked quietly. “I honestly don’t know how retribution and all that works on this kind of scale. Who sees to the punishing? Is it God? I mean, you’re already a demon, so that doesn’t seem to make sense. Hell, then? Haven’t they already told you to fuck off? Any punishment they give you doesn’t seem like the sort you’ll walk away from. Certainly wouldn’t lead to any redemption.”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley hissed again half-heartedly, while Thea continued to explore options out loud. “Really that just leaves Aziraphale. He’s a Principality, an angel, and a massive goody-two-shoes who by <em> your </em>logic, should have smited you eons ago.” She stood, collecting their bowls and took them to the kitchen sink, ignoring how Crowley continued to glare and hiss at her. </p><p> </p><p>“Who the fuck said anything about <em> ‘redemption’ </em>?” Crowley growled. The word stuck to his tongue like mud. Thea snorted and rolled her eyes.</p><p> </p><p>“What is the point of you being ‘punished’, if it isn't about redemption?” Thea exaggerated the air quotes just a bit. “If all you want is drown your guilt in some kind of eternal torment then go back to Hell. You’ll be suffering for no reason though, because it won’t help <em> anyone </em> . Not you or me. Certainly not Aziraphale. That's not <em> justice </em>. That’s just stupid teenaged drama on a cosmic scale!”</p><p> </p><p>“Who the fuck said anything about HELL?” Crowley threw up his hands in frustration.</p><p> </p><p>Thea planted her hands on her hips and looked at him like a puppy who had just widdled on the rug.</p><p> </p><p>“Crowley, are you going to be able to reconcile the things you did on behalf of Hell with the person you want to be now? The person that is going to save me from a horrible death? The person who Aziraphale could love?”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley groaned. Of course not. Never. Not possible.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m a <em> demon </em>,” he sighed. He’d said it over and over again, and no one seemed to understand the immense weight of that word. </p><p> </p><p>“Don’t you have free will though?” </p><p> </p><p>“Wot?” he grimaced.</p><p> </p><p>“You know, that thing we humans got when you did the thing with the apple?” Thea joked, and Crowley felt himself flush with annoyance again. “I keep hearing you say ‘<em> I’m a demon </em> ’, and Az keeps saying <em> ‘I’m an angel’ </em>, like that fucking matters when it comes to basic decision making. Its kinda just an excuse, isn’t it?”</p><p> </p><p>“WOT?”</p><p> </p><p>“Look. I’m not trying to step on your feelings about everything that has gone on before, but the idea that you <em> have </em> to do things a certain way forever because <em> you’re a demon </em> is a lazy excuse.”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s fucking not!” Crowley retorted, outraged. “Demons are just predisposed to being fucking demonic, you idiot. Angels are good and—”</p><p> </p><p>“An archangel did all this to me, Crowley,” Thea pointed out. “Is this “goodness”? Me turning into a gooey puddle? That’s good?”</p><p> </p><p>“No but—”</p><p> </p><p>“Angels are assholes, you said so yourself.” </p><p> </p><p>Crowley backpedaled. “Yeah, but Aziraphale—”</p><p> </p><p>“Aziraphale probably <em> chooses </em>to be good every damn day,” she snorted. “And he’s as bad as you are for hiding behind his dumb pretty wings and whimpering about ‘divine plans’ and his ‘sacred duty’.”</p><p> </p><p>“But those things are <em> real </em>!” Crowley insisted. “His duty is real. So was mine! We don’t get to fucking choose! Only humans can do that!”</p><p> </p><p>Thea nodded her head slowly. “I see where I went wrong. I’m sorry.”</p><p> </p><p>“Accepted,” Crowley glared.</p><p> </p><p>“I forgot you were both stupid,” she smirked. </p><p> </p><p>Crowley hissed and took a threatening step toward her but when Thea came around the counter <em> toward him </em> he quickly reversed course. Obviously she had stopped being intimidated by him, and the look in her eyes was too close to the fed up expression he'd gotten from Aziraphale. Dirty pool, if you asked him.</p><p> </p><p>“You, a demon, and Aziraphale, an angel, both said ‘<em> fuck it’ </em> to your respective ‘duties’ and <em> saved the world </em> because you both have Free. Fucking. Will!” she emphasized the last three words by jabbing his sternum with her finger. “And don’t try to sell me some ‘it was fate’ bullshit because you don’t believe in that anymore than I do. Instead of hiding behind what you <em> are </em> , try figuring out what you <em> want. </em>”</p><p> </p><p>“That simple, hmm?” Crowley hissed, arms crossed to protect himself against further jabs. Those sharp fingers were <em> weapons </em>. </p><p> </p><p>Thea’s expression softened and she ceased her attack. She placed her hands lightly over his elbows instead.</p><p> </p><p>“Sometimes things are simpler than what we make of them,” she assured him, and her voice was kinder, her hands warm. “It's always going to hurt, Crowley. You’re never going to forget any of it. But it doesn’t have to hang over you like this.”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley swallowed thickly, stepped away from her, ruffling her hair. “All right, shaddup,” he groaned.</p><p> </p><p>“Promise me you’ll talk to Az tomorrow?” she nagged, fixing her hair.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not promising you anything,” Crowley grumbled, striding over to her bar and going through the bottles. “Just going to end up in another argument anyway.”</p><p> </p><p>“Then have an argument, as long as what you’re shouting about is real.”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley snatched up a bottle of Scotch and straightened, shooting Thea a dry look. </p><p> </p><p>“If he’s angry, and you’re angry, and neither of you are used to talking about it, then yeah, you’re probably going to fight. But that might be a good thing. It could clear the air,” she continued, then added with a smirk. “Besides, make-up sex is <em> awesome </em>.”</p><p> </p><p>“I was going to share this with you,” Crowley growled holding up the bottle, “but now I’m just going to steal it.” He flipped her the V and stomped out, but her friendly grin and the warmth of her palm on his arm followed him. </p><p> </p><p>He was in the lift when his mobile rang. He juggled the bottle around so he could fish the phone from his pocket. It was Aziraphale. He glared at the screen and let it ring, picking up just before it went to answerphone.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah?” he greeted, coldly.</p><p> </p><p>“Crowley, hello. It's me,” Aziraphale’s voice sounded a little tinny over the phone.</p><p> </p><p>“I know, Aziraphale. What do you want?” he demanded. There was a pause, and he could imagine the angel fussing with the hem of his waistcoat in the middle of his back room. He’d be flustered, his pink lips pressed together and a rosey flush starting on the apples of his cheeks. </p><p> </p><p>“Well, I was reading a — well, it doesn’t matter, but I found a rather fascinating account by a priest in the 15th century and I was wondering if you might remember if you have ever tried retsina?”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley nearly tripped coming out of the lift. What the hell was the angel on about?</p><p> </p><p>“The...the wine?” he squawked, still unsettled by the asinine question.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, it originated in Greece, I believe,” Aziraphale continued, speaking in quick excited little sentences like he did when he was onto something, although what he was onto eluded Crowley. “It was imbued with the pine resin used to seal the casks it was held in. Do you recall ever having it?”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley shook his head, letting himself into his flat. “Yeah, Angel. Probably. I was big into the rotted grape scene since it started, you know that.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, we both were,” Aziraphale’s chuckle sounded warm over the phone and Crowley closed his eyes, savoring it. “However, I was wondering if you remembered your experience with the retsina specifically?”</p><p> </p><p>“I…” Crowley slowed, walking into his flat and seeing that five different bottles of retsina had been miracled onto his coffee table. “Angel, are you drunk?”</p><p> </p><p>“I beg your pardon?” the angel sounded affronted now. “No, Crowley. It is a simple question.”</p><p> </p><p>“You sent me five bottles of retsina out of the blue,” Crowley continued, setting his Scotch down and picking up one of the wine bottles. “Why?”</p><p> </p><p>“Er, Academic curiosity,” Aziraphale tittered. Crowley rolled his eyes. The angel was definitely drunk. He heard him taking a sip.</p><p> </p><p>“As I recall, I wasn’t particularly fond of it,” Crowley told him. “Most of what I tried was utter plonk to be honest, and tasted oily. Didn’t care for the kind of drunk it made me either.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh?” Aziraphale seemed interested. <em> Too </em>interested. “Please do tell.”</p><p> </p><p>“No,” Crowley smirked. “If you want to discuss my reaction to Grecian wines then you can come over here yourself with a better selection.”</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale giggled and Crowley closed his eyes again. Aziraphale’s giggles were like bubbles in champagne. He wanted to float away on them. What ridiculous creature could giggle like <em>that</em>?</p><p> </p><p>“I might, I might,” the angel teased. “I could, I suppose, if you drink a retsina with me.”</p><p> </p><p>“What is— Why?!” Crowley immediately started searching the bottles for signs of tampering. Something was going on. “Have you poisoned these with something? I know you were angry when you left this morning but this seems a little extreme, Angel.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, you’re awful,” Aziraphale pouted. Crowley pictured the jutted lip, plush and likely wet with wine. </p><p> </p><p>“Come over, Angel,” he groaned before he could stop himself. The line fell silent and Crowley sighed, cursing himself. “I’ll drink the fucking retsina,” he offered dully.</p><p> </p><p>“Jolly good. See you soon,” Aziraphale replied. He sounded wary and suddenly sober. There was a rushed “Pip pip” and then the line went dead. </p><p> </p><p>“I’m in love with a lunatic,” Crowley whispered to himself. It was the first time he had said it out loud, and the barb didn’t make the admission mean any less.</p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale was out of the shop in time to catch the bus to Mayfair and blessed his luck (and the driver) that he didn’t have to walk in the rain again. He clutched his old brown Gladstone bag on his lap and fiddled with the little plastic sachet of red pine resin. He had also summoned, as promised, a bottle of Santorini Assyrtiko and a Boutari Vinsanto if they decided to opt for something sweeter. They were in the travel bag with the demonology book and a couple other volumes for light reading, as well as an old stone incense burner he had spent three quarters of an hour searching the shop for. He continued to play with the little bag of resin, moved to his pocket now for safer keeping, after stepping off the bus and hurrying along to Crowley’s building. </p><p> </p><p>He was nervous now. Crowley’s little comment about poisoning the retsina was causing him to reevaluate the ethics of his little experiment. He should probably explain to the demon, show him the book and have him read the priest’s accounting. But Crowley would laugh at him, mock the book, the resin, <em> the priesthood </em>probably, and Aziraphale would never learn if there was any truth to it.</p><p> </p><p>Well, the retsina <em> was </em> only wine. Crowley drank wine all the time. Aziraphale was certainly not doing anything improper by offering the demon wine. He nodded to himself as he entered the lift and pressed the button for the 8th floor. He’d decide what, if anything, to do with the resin later.</p><p> </p><p>He twitched his fingers inside his pocket, sliding them along the zip locked seal of the sachet like a thumb across a worry stone. He truly hadn’t intended to come back to Mayfair this soon. The bookshop was immensely more comfortable and whatever reading he had to do was better done <em> there </em> where there were fewer... distractions. He was so easily side-tracked these days! A random little discovery in an old, potentially useless old book had sent him across London in search for this silly little reagent. He’d accomplished very little with his day, really. And he was still upset with Crowley!</p><p> </p><p>What was he doing here?</p><p> </p><p>“Are you coming in?” Crowley asked, his arched brow a striking line of red against the dark shine of his glasses. Aziraphale hadn’t even realized he’d come to the demon’s door yet, let alone had <em> knocked </em> . He really <em> was </em>in a state.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes. Yes of course,” he muttered, thrusting his bag towards Crowley. “Here. The wine you asked for is inside.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oookay,” Crowley drawled with a low whistle that crawled under Aziraphale’s skin. He glanced over at the bottles he’d summoned over to Crowley earlier. They were still on his table, unopened, although the demon was nursing a glass of Scotch.</p><p> </p><p>“You agreed to have the retsina if I came here!” Aziraphale snapped, giving Crowley an accusatory look. The demon set the travel bag down and glared back.</p><p> </p><p>“You literally just got here, Aziraphale,” he pointed out slowly, as if Aziraphale were dimwitted instead of merely annoyed. With a sigh of great tedium Aziraphale vanished Crowley’s scotch right out of his hand. Crowley scoffed at him and shook his head.</p><p> </p><p>“It is just wine, Crowley. Honestly,” Aziraphale huffed, summoning up two glasses and picking up the first bottle he reached from the table. “You didn’t even bother to keep it chilled?” He fixed that with a quick miracle and poured a generous glass. The aroma was fruity and pleasant. He held it out for Crowley but the demon didn’t budge.</p><p> </p><p>“How about instead of tossing gross wine down my gullet you just go ahead and tell me why you’re so angry?” Crowley demanded, his voice calm but firm. Aziraphale had the sudden sense of their positions being reversed and didn’t care for the feeling at all. </p><p> </p><p>“Drink this and I will tell you why I am so angry,” Aziraphale snapped, hating his own pettiness but unable to escape it. Crowley frowned at that, glanced at the full glass in Aziraphale’s hand then took it and downed the whole thing. Aziraphale’s eyes widened as Crowley drained the glass, swallowing loudly. The demon winced, sucked his teeth and made a face before vanishing the glass and giving Aziraphale a hard look.</p><p> </p><p>“Your turn. Talk.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh ho ho,” Aziraphale surprised himself with how bitter his voice sounded then. “I should talk to you, should I? Are we two entities that do that, Crowley? Do we discuss our feelings with each other?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, I’m a hypocrite,” Crowley growled. “Add it to the list. You’re supposed to be better than me though, remember?”</p><p> </p><p>“You assaulted Thea, again!” Aziraphale vented. “And she could have destroyed you! You saw what she did to me! You would have been discorporated and then what would happen, Crowley? Would Hell give you a new body and send you back to me? You colossal cretin!”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley regarded him silently. When he answered his voice was as low and soft as Aziraphale’s had been high and loud. “Hell would have had me in chains, screaming for eternity. And it would have been for nothing. I know that.”</p><p> </p><p>“I would still be here, Crowley. I’d have to see that Thea is safe before I could even think of how to save you, but I’d <em> know </em>what they were doing to you and I can’t—” his voice broke and he paused, clearing his throat. “I am not going to do any of this without you. If you are content to throw your life away, you should know it is mine you are being so cavalier with as well.”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, that seems pretty dramatic, Angel, and that's saying something coming from me,” Crowley laughed bitterly. “I’m sorry that my hypothetical death would inconvenience you, but I’m not going to accept responsibility for your very life, Aziraphale. You don’t even trust me.”</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale gasped, offended. “I have trusted you with my very existence! ”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley wrinkled his nose and made a series of unpleasant sounds devoid of vowels. “Yyeah, sure, the whole body swap thing was your idea, but your back was against the wall there, wouldn’t you say?” the demon replied lightly. “It wasn’t like you really had a <em> choice </em>then. Trust Crowley, or die, wasn’t it?”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s hardly the only time I’ve—”</p><p> </p><p>“You lied to me about finding Agnes Nutter’s book in the car,” Crowley grumbled. Aziraphale shut his mouth and withdrew a step. “You lied to me about knowing where the antichrist was. You lied several fucking times because you didn’t trust me! What if that book had burned up in the fire? What if you hadn’t been able to get back to Earth? I wouldn’t have known how to stop any of it! It would really have been over then, Angel. Because you wouldn’t trust me.”</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale opened and shut his mouth a couple times. He wanted to refute it, but of course, nothing Crowley had just said was wrong. “That was different. That was before and I was rather of two minds about a great many things at that time,” he explained.</p><p> </p><p>‘You admit you didn’t trust me,” Crowley challenged. “Can you at least admit why?”</p><p> </p><p>“Because…” </p><p> </p><p>Crowley waited, his jaw set. Aziraphale knew what he was waiting for. The words to cement his twisted world view and confirm all his fears. <em> Because you’re a demon. </em></p><p> </p><p>“Because I didn’t know better,” he said instead. Crowley suddenly roared with bitter exaggerated laughter. Aziraphale tried to hide his hurt by pouring another large glass of retsina. He tasted it, but didn’t enjoy it. He held it over to Crowley who at least stopped his horrible mocking laughter to glare at the glass. </p><p> </p><p>“Again?” He seethed. “Yerrch” he drank it down, making another face. </p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale used the opportunity to plead his case. “I believed in Heaven. Despite everything, I thought they’d <em> want </em> to stop the war.”</p><p> </p><p>“You thought I didn’t?!” Crowley shouted. “It was my bloody idea!” Aziraphale fidgeted with the little bag in his pocket, hating the agony he heard in Crowley’s voice. He honestly hadn’t considered that his actions might have hurt Crowley. His stubborn rejection under the bandstand, now <em> that </em> had clearly stung, but lying had been…</p><p> </p><p>“It was a mistake,” he admitted. “It was a silly mistake, and certainly not one I’d ever make again. But I’m surprised it has hurt you as much as it has, to be honest.”</p><p> </p><p>“M’ not hurt,” Crowley sulked, turning away so he could flop in a sprawl across the couch. “We done with that wretched retsina yet? Curiosity satisfied? Do I have to drink all of these?” he waved a disdainful hand at the other bottles. Aziraphale shook his head and vanished them. </p><p> </p><p>“You are the one who has been constantly telling me <em> not </em> to trust you,” Aziraphale huffed. “I keep telling you I do, and you get upset and frantic and now you toss <em> this </em>in my face. I honestly don’t understand you, Crowley. Do you want me to trust you or not?”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley fixed his glasses, which were already perfectly straight, and sucked his teeth again, refusing to look at Aziraphale. The angel was just getting a mind to leave when he finally growled out “I do. I want...that.”</p><p> </p><p>His sharp cheeks were nearly as red as his hair and he fiddled with the end of his scarf looking sulky and sheepish and stupidly handsome. Aziraphale sighed, feeling some of his anger subside, tamped down his desire to hold the dashed creature and torture him with sweet kisses.</p><p> </p><p>“Would you be able to trust me in return?” Aziraphale asked.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ve <em>always</em> trusted you, Angel,” Crowley muttered. Aziraphale rolled his eyes heavenward. If that were true, the demon would have opened up to him by now. He watched Crowley cooly as the demon continued to avoid his gaze, focused on his scarf or his open waistcoat until his long fingers twitched and moved suddenly to hastily scrub away a tear. Aziraphale gasped at an uncomfortable epiphany. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> He can’t! He could very well want to tell me everything and he simply can’t!  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Oh my dear,” Aziraphale sighed, joining Crowley on the couch, forcing him to slide back. Aziraphale captured his hands and kissed the salt of his tears from his skin. </p><p> </p><p>“It’s nothing!” Crowley squawked. “That retsina is just bloody awful, and—”</p><p> </p><p>“You feel everything at once, don’t you dear,” Aziraphale looked at Crowley, softly stroking the backs of his hands with his thumbs. Crowley swallowed thickly, his brows drawn in confusion. “I’ve been pestering you to open up to me, but it must feel like you’re holding back an immense river and I’m here trying to chip away at the dam.”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s not—” Crowley started, then stopped. He hissed at himself, looked away again. “I don’t know how to give you what you want, Angel,” he said finally. “I don’t have the tools.”</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale pulled the little sachet of resin from his pocket and placed it in Crowley’s hand. </p><p> </p><p>“Would you smell this for me, darling, and tell me what you think?”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley sighed and chuckled, shaking his head. “Angel, you are acting so weird tonight,” he muttered, but he opened the sachet and put his nose in it. He instantly threw his head back, squeezing his eyes closed and sneezing. “Oh! FUck! That is STRONG! What is that?” He sneezed again, laughed a little and then sniffed it again. Aziraphale giggled a little when Crowley dipped his nose back in. </p><p> </p><p>“It’s pine resin. For incense,” he replied, watching Crowley examine the little amber coloured bits inside the bag. “I found them in a small new aged shop.”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley took his glasses off and set them aside, scrubbing the remainder of his tears away with his wrist, a somewhat goofy smile on his lips. “It does smell like a bloody forest has grown in my sinuses, Angel, so thanks for that.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m sorry, I should have warned you,” Aziraphale chuckled. He reached to take the bag back but Crowley curled his fingers around it guardedly. Aziraphale withdrew his hand. “You like it?”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s weird,” Crowley insisted. “And <em> you’re </em>weird. First the retsina, and now incense. What is it with you and pine resin tonight?”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m more curious about <em> you </em> and pine resin,” Aziraphale grinned. Crowley’s eyes were ever so slightly dilated. His foot was bobbing behind the angel’s back and his fingers kept flexing around the bag as he sniffed it again. “The retsina clearly didn’t have enough resin in it to affect you, but…”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley gasped. “Did you fucking drug me?” The sour look of contempt was fractured by a quick bout of snickering and another sniff.  </p><p> </p><p>“I assure you I haven’t drugged you, Crowley,” Aziraphale snorted. “It is exactly what I’ve said it is and nothing more. However, according to the text I was reading the author had noticed that pine resin, when burned, had the unusual ability to cause demons to...well...relax.”</p><p> </p><p>“Relax?” Crowley repeated as if this concept were completely foreign.</p><p> </p><p>“From the way it was described, it sounded rather similar to the effect catnip has on house cats, but I was skeptical at —”</p><p> </p><p>“So you <em> did </em>drug me,” Crowley insisted. “This is demon catnip!”</p><p> </p><p>“I— oh,” Aziraphale frowned. He had figured if the resin did anything at all, that it might merely be a pleasant relaxing smell. He certainly hadn’t truly believed that it would alter Crowley’s mood as much as it seemed to. “I’m sorry. I should take that back, I think. I honestly didn’t believe it would impair your senses.”</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t think I’m impaired,” Crowley shrugged. “I feel fine. I can still think and do. I just…” He smiled a bit and rolled his neck and shoulders. “It feels like Hell is further away. Like I’m more...me.”</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale reached for the bag again and this time Crowley reluctantly let him take it. “I’m sorry, my dear, but that does sound like I may have actually drugged you somewhat.”</p><p> </p><p>“You’re no fun, Angel,” Crowley grumbled. “I feel fine. What do I have to do? Give me a sobriety test.”</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale did. He gave Crowley several sobriety tests in fact and the demon passed them all. He did seem to have all of his mental faculties, but his smiles were easier and he didn’t pull away from the angel’s touch. Aziraphale wasn’t sure what that meant exactly. What a bizarre thing for tree resin to do. What would happen if they actually burned it?</p><p> </p><p>“We should burn it!” Crowley grinned, reading his mind. “Maybe it will work on angels too!” </p><p> </p><p>It didn’t. Aziraphale had already tried it. “Crowley, I— “</p><p> </p><p>“I have a burner somewhere, I think,” he was saying, “or I could whip one up.”</p><p> </p><p>“I have one in the bag,” Aziraphale responded, “but are you sure it is wise?”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley looked at Aziraphale and frowned a little. “Um… I don’t know. I just thought—”</p><p> </p><p>It certainly wasn’t the first time Aziraphale had seen Crowley giddy like this. He’d have bouts of unrestrained glee, telling Aziraphale stories of his mischief, or plans for future mischief. Crowley really did love mischief. And Aziraphale had seen Crowley inebriated.This wasn’t the same stuttery slurring manner he had when he was drunk, or the manic wild eyed frenzy displayed one time he’d shown up at the shop higher than a kite. He just seemed content.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re sure you feel all right? You don’t feel at all befuddled?”</p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p> </p><p>“You don’t feel at all befuddled?” Aziraphale asked, his blue eyes shining with concern. Crowley rolled his eyes. He’d already recited the alphabet backwards, done a few hand/eye coordination tests, walked along the edge of the rug to prove his balance and turned into a snake and back. </p><p> </p><p>“I feel fine, Angel,” he insisted, and he did. He felt a little warm, and relaxed, and maybe a little... he couldn’t believe he was even thinking the word but... frisky? Honestly the catnip allegory wasn’t terribly far off, not that he’d ever admit that to another living soul. “If you’re uncomfortable, we don’t have to do it,” he said, since Aziraphale was clearly uncomfortable. What a fucking shame, too because Crowley was getting hard, sitting this close to Aziraphale after not being sure he’d get the opportunity again. He could smell the angel over the fading scent of pine and that combination was his new absolute favorite. </p><p> </p><p>Absently he remembered Thea’s natural scent had been somewhat pine-like too, with notes of cinnamon. Is that why he liked her so much? This was honestly so weird. Definitely needed further private research. But first thing, first.</p><p> </p><p>“I have to ask you something,” he told Aziraphale, twisting his fingers in his scarf. “You left so suddenly this morning, and you were angry, and—” he hesitated, uncomfortable now too. “Um, well, I guess I’ll just come out with it. Are you... done? With me I mean? Are we over?”</p><p> </p><p>“Good Lord, Crowley,” Aziraphale scoffed. “Are you honestly asking me that?”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley felt himself flush and glanced away. That wasn’t an answer. Aziraphale was annoyed again and that wasn’t an answer.</p><p> </p><p>“No, you absolute goose,” Aziraphale chuckled. “We are not over simply because I was angry.” </p><p> </p><p>Crowley shifted on the couch, turning toward Aziraphale, risking a hopeful smile. Aziraphale shook his head ruefully, smiling patiently. Crowley moved closer cautiously, testing the angel’s reaction. Gorgeous blue eyes crinkled slightly in amusement and flicked to Crowley’s mouth then back. </p><p> </p><p>Emboldened, Crowley closed the distance, setting a chaste kiss against the softest, sweetest, prettiest lips in all existence. He pressed and lifted away, checking on Aziraphale’s reaction again, worried about going too fast again after their spat. His hands slid lightly up the angel’s round thighs before Crowley caught himself and moved them around to the angel’s waist over the jacket. </p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale kissed him this time, less chaste, still soft and sweet and pretty. Crowley deepened the kiss, roving his hands down, down, down, until the tips of his fingers slid into the angel’s pocket and cupped lightly over the bag of resin before he vanished it into his safe.</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale gasped against his lips, and he pulled away, suspiciously. He had to have sensed the little demonic miracle. Crowley grinned. “It’s in my safe. You’re not getting it back.”</p><p> </p><p>“You could have simply asked,” Aziraphale huffed sourly. </p><p> </p><p>“I have better things to ask at the moment,” Crowley smirked, taking Aziraphale’s hand and kissing it lightly. “I want to know what you’re up for tonight, Angel. Can I take you to bed?”</p><p> </p><p>“No,” Aziraphale responded, and it felt like a bucket of cold water splashed over the demon’s head. He embarrassed himself by whimpering as he pulled away.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m much more interested in that jacuzzi of yours,” Aziraphale smirked after a wholly wicked pause. “I’d like to take advantage of this relaxed state of yours and touch you, if you’re willing.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yep. Yup. Totally willing!” Crowley rasped, jumping up and pulling Aziraphale to his feet. </p><p> </p><p>“Are you no longer haunted by that... obsession of yours?” the angel questioned, following Crowley into the plant room. "The fantasy of, erm... punishment? It seemed to prevent you from enjoying yourself before and I really would like this to be mutual, dear."</p><p> </p><p> Crowley risked a glance, mirroring the angel’s worried expression with his own. </p><p> </p><p>“Um...yeah, I am,” he muttered, honesty tasting funny in his mouth. “But, I mean, it's just a stupid fantasy and—  It isn’t a problem right now. Can we talk about it later? I just want… you,” he felt himself blush and tried to hide his face while he busied himself with the jacuzzi. </p><p> </p><p>“I’m glad,” Aziraphale murmured, wrapping his arms around Crowley’s waist and pressing a kiss behind his ear. Crowley shivered. “I do hope your plants won’t mind what we’re about to do in here,” he teased. Crowley glanced up at the plants nearest the tub and narrowed his eyes at them. A moment later they were moved to a pocket dimension. The others would mind their own business. </p><p> </p><p>The water was gloriously warm and slightly scented with eucalyptus. Crowley snapped his kit away to the bedroom and settled into the tub with a sigh. He arched an expectant brow at Aziraphale and grinned when the angel followed suit and joined him in the water sliding his feet under Crowley’s knees and extending his legs until his toes hooked behind narrow hips. </p><p> </p><p>“Where do you want to touch me?” he teased the angel.</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale lifted one of Crowley’s hands out of the water and smiled fondly as he began a simple massage of the lean muscles and tendons in his palms, stroking and pulling along his long fingers before gently rolling undulating pressure around his bony wrist. Crowley frowned at first, not expecting <em> this </em> kind of touch, but it did feel really...nice. Once Aziraphale was content with the first hand, he repeated the action with Crowley’s other hand. </p><p> </p><p>Crowley shrugged and settled deeper in the water, closing his eyes. His erection had flagged, lulled into relaxation with the rest of him as Aziraphale slowly eased the tension out of his fingers and hands. Then the process moved to his forearms, and then up to his biceps and Crowley actually smiled and hummed contentedly.</p><p> </p><p>This was going much better than he expected. He wondered if the hot water made it easier? He chastised himself for this train of thought and made himself focus on the pressure of Aziraphale’s fingertips and palms. Thinking was risky. Thinking led to him ruining things.</p><p> </p><p>“Turn around please, my dear,” Aziraphale murmured and Crowley startled, splashing slightly. Aziraphale's voice had barely been above a whisper, but it sounded loud after all the quiet. Crowley pulled his legs in and lifted himself up on his knees, turning his back to the angel. He felt Aziraphale kneel as well, and barely flinched when warm, wet hands slid down his back. He sighed and eased himself over the wall of the tub as Aziraphale began a gentle but firm massage of the muscles of his shoulders and neck, hissing now and then when the angel’s questing fingers found a new knot.  </p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale would ease up then, switching to gently work the tension out with the heel of his palms until the pain dissipated and Crowley moaned bonelessly under his ministrations. By the time Aziraphale had worked his way down the bumpy spine, easing the tension in the lower back and pressing blunt thumbs onto the meat at his hips, Crowley was a blissful puddle of happy demon. </p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale’s hands were under the water now, sliding around the globes of Crowley’s arse, squeezing and massaging the muscle there before one particularly deft set of fingers slipped down the cleft and rubbed enticingly at Crowley’s entrance. </p><p> </p><p>Crowley lifted his head, confused and intrigued. Was that <em> intended </em> to be as arousing as it was, or was Aziraphale just being <em> insanely </em> thorough with this massage? The questing finger pulsed against the guardian muscles in a way that begged entrance and Crowley groaned a protracted "Yessssss" and bit his lip when he realized the finger was slicked with lube as it pressed inside.</p><p> </p><p>“Just relax, my love,” Aziraphale whispered behind him, his free hand gently stroking his cheek and easing Crowley’s lip from his teeth, smoothing the redness with his thumb. Crowley nipped at that thumb, following the soft bite by licking up Aziraphale’s index finger.</p><p> </p><p>“Would you like my fingers in your mouth, dear?” Azriaphale asked, lightly placing the pads of two fingers on Crowley’s tongue. The demon moaned an affirmative, sliding his mouth over the soft digits and sucking them hard. He swirled his tongue around and between the fingers as Aziraphale’s other hand worked his arse open in slow gradual strokes. </p><p> </p><p>Two fingers in his mouth, two fingers deep inside him, stretching almost to the point of burning, and Crowley panted now around the digits on his tongue, drooling obscenely over Aziraphale’s hand as he moaned. </p><p> </p><p>He was achingly hard now, but his muscles were still rubbery and content from the patient massage earlier. It was an exquisite dichotomy and his eyes rolled back a little when Aziraphale miracled his insides with more lubricant ahead of adding a third finger.</p><p> </p><p>“Angel...Angel…Angel...” he panted, abandoning the fingers in his mouth to facilitate what was quickly going to turn into begging.</p><p> </p><p>“Shhh, Easy my dear,” Aziraphale soothed, moving the spit slick fingers to trail through Crowley’s hair, lightly scratching at his scalp and lighting up a whole new host of nerves. </p><p> </p><p>Minutes stretched like hours as Aziraphale continued to open the demon, always just shy of too much stretch, too much burn. Crowley gasped and twitched and undulated his hips and spine, trying to grind himself on those fingers that somehow—<em> somehow— </em> managed to barely miss his prostate with each thrust. He was so full of fingers at this point it <em> had </em> to be intentional.</p><p> </p><p>He groaned, setting his forehead down on the cool rim of the tub. “Angel please, please please, I’m ready. I’m so far <em> past </em> ready, please put your cock in me please fuck me please I want it I’m ready fuck fuck fuck me please” he babbled mindlessly. </p><p> </p><p>“Shhh,” Aziraphale hushed, trailing kisses down the back of Crowley’s neck and shoulders. Crowley shivered in the heat of the water and against the lust rolling off them both. </p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale withdrew his fingers and softly took hold of Crowley’s hips, easing him backwards. The other hand stroked warm water up his chest and pulled him upright, holding him up as he draped bonelessly against Aziraphale’s soft chest. His hips settled nicely in the angel’s lap, feeling the hard silky erection firm against the cleft of his arse as his lower back settled perfectly against a soft warm belly. Crowley let his head fall back against Aziraphale’s shoulder, sighing at finding this seat so comfortable and perfect despite how badly he wanted to come.</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale started to massage the muscles on his thighs and Crowley gasped out a shocked, bewildered laugh, moving a blond curl with his forceful exhalation. </p><p> </p><p>“Aziraphale, l'm relaxed! I swear to <em> whomever </em> that I am so fucking relaxed!” he groaned feeling Aziraphale smile against his jaw. “Please stop fiddling around and get on with it <em> , Please! </em>”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, I do love it when you beg, my dear,” Aziraphale murmured.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, fuuuuck, Angel…” Crowley moaned. Hearing the angel talk like that was almost too much.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re doing so well, Crowley,” Aziraphale whispered, kissing his jaw, and trailing his fingers up and down his heaving chest. Crowley whimpered. “You've let me touch you, <em> care </em> for you. It's everything I wanted, Crowley. I’m so pleased. I’m so pleased with you, my dear.”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley whined, thrusting against the water, trying to press into Aziraphale’s body, trying to rub the silky cock against his back. He wasn’t supposed to like pretty words this much. They shouldn’t be undoing him like this!</p><p> </p><p>“You want me to make love to you?” Aziraphale sighed, pressing a sloppy kiss against the part of Crowley’s open mouth that he could reach with the demon arched so desperately over his shoulder.</p><p> </p><p>“Fuck me, Aziraphale,” he begged. "Right fucking now before I scream."</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale took hold of his hand and sucked his finger, making them both moan, then he brought it under the water and rubbed Crowley’s prick with his own hand. Crowley gasped, snapping his head forward, and crying out. He wrapped his long fingers around his straining cock immediately, as if by instinct, and began a few good firm strokes.</p><p> </p><p>“That’s it my dear,” Aziraphale rested his own hand over Crowley’s. “Show me how you like it, love. Teach me how to touch you.”</p><p> </p><p>“Angel,” he chanted, eyes closing in pleasure. “Angel Angel Angel…”</p><p> </p><p>He moved quickly, grinding up against his palm, flicking his wrist and groaning loudly as he fucked his hand, loving the feeling of Aziraphale’s palm moving with him, squeezing his hand tighter around his cock as he sped up.</p><p> </p><p>“That’s it, my dear,” Aziraphale encouraged, breathlessly. “You’re so beautiful, Crowley. You’re gorgeous right now, my love. I adore you. I love you. I’m so blissfully happy that you’re mine.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Mine. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Crowley arched back sharply as his climax ripped through him like fire, howling with the release he’d been aching for, denying himself for weeks. He barely returned to his shivering body before he heard Aziraphale moan and felt himself being tipped forward. He hissed as his chest rested against the edge of the tub again, cold against his fevered skin, but instantly forgot it again when the angel spread his cheeks with his thumbs. </p><p> </p><p>“I want you so badly, Crowley. Please, may I?” Aziraphale rasped against his shoulder, his hot breath blowing against his skin and making Crowley shiver again.</p><p> </p><p>“You fucking better,” Crowley grunted, resting his head against his forearms and tilting his hips toward the dead sexy creature behind him. </p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale frotted against his backside for a couple teasing strokes before he lined himself up and eased himself in. Crowley gasped, enjoying the hot stretch. He expected Aziraphale to stop once the head of him was in, but he just kept going, pressing in, filling Crowley up until he was finally fully seated against his hips. </p><p> </p><p>And <em> still </em> he continued to press Crowley forward against the wall of the tub and Crowley wriggled helplessly, swearing and blessing and moaning about how nothing should possibly ever feel this good. </p><p> </p><p>“Oh Crowley,” Aziraphale groaned in his ear. “You feel...Ah! Oh, my dear, I don’t ever want to come out.”</p><p> </p><p>“S’okay, Angel,” Crowley panted happily. “We can die like this. That’s fine with me,” </p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale laughed, his chest and belly shaking against Crowley’s back and bouncing him on the cock buried inside him. Crowley’s eyes bulged. Aziraphale began to press kisses to his shoulder and neck, then <em> finally </em> started to move in slow full thrusts.</p><p> </p><p>“We have— ahh Mmm— responsibilities, so I’m Ah!-- afraid we’ll have to go on <em> living </em> for now,” Aziraphale continued. “But I’d like very much to be doing something like this whenever time permits uh—until—oh goodness!" Crowley chuckled, loving the way Aziraphale gabbled in nonsensical lust. Especially as it devolved into low sensual growls and moans.</p><p> </p><p>"Are you— Ah! Ahh! all right, my dear?" </p><p> </p><p>Crowley nodded vigorously. He was better than all right. If he could just get a bit <em> more… </em></p><p> </p><p>"Harder!" he demanded, thrusting back and tilting his hips up enough that Aziraphale's next stroke hit him exactly right.</p><p> </p><p>"Perrrrrrrfect," he purred. "Yes, just there, Azira—Ah! Fffffgnnnn—" Crowley gasped and groaned as Aziraphale increased the pace, snapping his hips, moving the warm water with him to swirl and splash over Crowley's cooling skin. Hot firm fingers wrapped around his neglected erection and Crowley eagerly fucked into the angel's hand as Aziraphale repeated all the twists and strokes Crowley had done earlier. </p><p> </p><p>"Fuck!" he shouted.</p><p> </p><p>"I am," Aziraphale wheezed a laugh against Crowley's neck.</p><p> </p><p>"FUCK!" </p><p> </p><p>"Really now, I'm— oh, blast it, I'm not going to last, darling. Are you clo— "</p><p> </p><p>Crowley came, interrupting the angel with a stuttering shout, the intensity of this orgasm far stronger than he expected having already come once. Regardless, his brain went blank, knowing nothing but waves of pleasure as he blanketed himself against Aziraphale's chest. </p><p> </p><p>The angel fucked him through his climax, pulling the demon's arms up and over his head to hold him up. Then he used both his strong hands to pull Crowley's hips back against his thrusts. </p><p> </p><p>Crowley was just coming back to his senses when Aziraphale came with a primal growl that nearly undid Crowley all over again.</p><p> </p><p>"I love you I love you I love you," Aziraphale slurred, his mouth sliding sleepily against Crowley's shoulder. Crowley gulped in breaths he was suddenly convinced he needed, trying unsuccessfully to glue his brain back together.</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale slid back, releasing Crowley's hips (Crowley shivered, feeling empty and cold, bereft.) He felt the angel settle back behind him and rejoiced when warm strong hands lifted him off the side of the tub and set him back on his plush lap, wrapping him in warm arms. </p><p> </p><p>Crowley hummed happily and closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling of partial weightlessness and Aziraphale's strong embrace. He shuddered with a mild aftershock and groaned weakly. The arms around him tightened.</p><p> </p><p>"Are you all right, dear?" Aziraphale asked, nuzzling his ear. His breathing was still a little haggard. It felt good. It all felt so good.</p><p> </p><p>"Shh" Crowley hushed, letting himself sink deeper in the water, safe in Aziraphale's arms. </p><p> </p><p>At some point the angel took him from the tub, wrapped him in soft towels and tucked him into bed but Crowley barely woke up for any of it. His sleep was deep and still and dreamless.</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Your Kudos are my writing juice. Your comments make me squee.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. The Ritz</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Nightmares, A Heist, More Catnip, Aziraphale's Huffy, Crowley's a Twerp, Professor Aziraphale, Moderate Amounts of Back-Sliding, Leash-Training your Psychic Fox Companion, Talking about Feelings, Avoiding Talking About Feelings, A Late Lunch at the Ritz. A Typical Chapter of the Unforeseen.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>My eternal and undying affection for PinkPenguinParade, who continues to deal with the ridiculous amounts of beta work I through at her weekly like a frickin' CHAMP.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I wanna wake up where your love is</p>
<p>'Cause your love is always waking mine</p>
<p>I wanna break down where your heart gets</p>
<p>So torn it's almost breaking mine</p>
<p>I wanna lay here, lost and bitter</p>
<p>So long, I feel like I could die</p>
<p>I wanna tell you what my truth is</p>
<p>But it's buried down inside</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dream- Bishop Briggs</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>Aziraphale finished his book and pursed his lips, considering whether or not to fetch another one. He’d forgotten to bring the books into the bedroom after bundling a half-asleep demon into bed and tucking him in. Crowley slept like the dead for the first few hours and Aziraphale figured he could have danced a gavotte beside him and not woken him up. However, as the night progressed, Crowley started making sounds again, and Aziraphale was loath to disturb him. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>A gentle hiss and a smack of lips sounded from the pillow beside the angel and he chuckled to himself, content to wait until Crowley slipped back into a deeper sleep. No longer needing his little ball of dim light for reading, he shifted it higher so he could watch Crowley sleep.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Another hiss, this time louder, and the demon twitched, his features momentarily morphing into a grimace before relaxing again. Aziraphale frowned. It wasn’t a pleasant dream, then. Crowley twitched again, whimpering. The muscles in his lean arms clenched, and thin lips tightened again across sharpened teeth. The whimpering turned into a pained whine. Aziraphale gently swept a lock of red hair from Crowley’s face, trying to soothe him without waking him. He’d managed to do it once before, after their first bout of lovemaking in this bed. Crowley would sleep so deeply for a time, but then the dreams would come.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Steady, darling,” he whispered, lightly stroking the long tense fingers gripping the pillow beside him. Crowley’s sleepy hiss turned into a startled yowl and the demon lashed out at Aziraphale, the blow quicker than the human eye. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Not quicker than an angel, however. Aziraphale caught Crowley’s wrist immediately, holding it firmly in his grasp. The black claws were long and sharp and shockingly close to Aziraphale’s sky blue eyes. He felt his angelic powers surface, readying against further attack. It was a leftover from when he was created, and what he was created for. Smiting.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>However, Aziraphale had 6,000 years practice at <em> not </em> smiting Crowley, and it wasn’t for lack of the demon surprising him or being dreadfully infuriating. The angelic energy receded and he looked down at Crowley with sympathy. Golden eyes watched him, shining in the dim light he cast above them. The demon’s gaze flicked to where his wrist was held, so close to the angel’s face, and Aziraphale saw him realize his actions. He expected him to pull away, roll over, shut down. He hastily organized his arguments in his head in preparation.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The claws returned to human black lacquered fingernails and Crowley relaxed his arm in Aziraphale’s grip, setting his head back down on the pillow. He didn’t pull away, but peered up into Aziraphale’s eyes silently. His expression seemed to be asking for something, begging even, but for what?  Crowley closed his eyes then, leaving his wrist captured. Simply waiting.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Bad dream, then?” Aziraphale joked lightly, giving Crowley’s wrist a quick kiss before letting him go. Crowley shrugged his shoulders and didn’t open his eyes.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Would you like to talk about it?” Aziraphale asked hopefully.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Don’t remember,” Crowley muttered, looking for the world like he just wanted to go back to sleep. Aziraphale pursed his lips in annoyance. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“It clearly had you fairly upset, dear boy, if you tried to scratch my eyes out,” he complained. “I really wish you’d at least make an <em> attempt </em>to speak to me.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Crowley sighed, and opened his eyes finally to give Aziraphale a tired look. “I’m not lying to you Angel. I don’t remember. I almost never remember my dreams. I know they’re bloody awful, but the details...evaporate when I wake up.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Aziraphale was suspicious. He didn’t understand dreams, preferring to do away with sleep whenever possible, but he didn’t see the point in having dreams at all if you weren’t even going to remember them. Seemed more likely to be another evasion tactic, but Aziraphale didn’t know enough to be sure so…</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Fine,” he accepted distastefully. “If you say so.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Sorry I tried to scratch your eyes out,” Crowley yawned.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Well, I’m sure it wasn’t personal.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Last thing I’d want is to hurt you, Angel,” the demon murmured sleepily, cuddling into the pillow again. Aziraphale hummed an acknowledgement, gently threading his fingers through soft red hair as Crowley fell back asleep.</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em> Those eyes. </em> His heart clenched at the soft surrender he’d seen in them. Crowley wanted something from Aziraphale but didn’t seem able to articulate it. He buried it under smarm and defensiveness and it only seemed to peek out when he was half asleep. Perhaps some other form of relaxation would help loosen the demon’s tongue. Aziraphale bit his lip to keep from giggling as he silently rolled out of bed and began his search for Crowley’s safe.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It took him nearly no time at all, since he assumed it would be in Crowley’s study. Before Aziraphale started making his frequent visits, the study and the plant room were the only places Crowley spent awake time in.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Aziraphale checked behind the paintings first and found it immediately. Honestly, how cliche! He was a little disappointed. He tried a few likely combinations starting with the usual factory setting.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>0000 - No.</p>
<p>6969 - No.</p>
<p>4004 - Success.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Aziraphale rolled his eyes. It was as if Crowley <em> wanted </em>to get robbed.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The inside of the safe was mostly empty, save for the little bag of resin and a long box of carved ivory. Curious, and not at all above snooping, Aziraphale cast a quick guilty glance over his shoulder and then opened the box, unable to hold back his soft gasp of surprise. The box was lined with fine royal blue silk and contained one large feather, white as fresh snow and intimately familiar. Aziraphale felt his cheeks flood with warmth, not immediately knowing how to feel about this discovery. He ought to be angry that Crowley had stolen one of his feathers. What could he possibly be keeping it for?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The feather was in perfect condition, held safely in a beautiful box. It wasn’t a case of a vile demon stealing an absent minded angel’s celestial essence. It was Crowley having squirreled away something intrinsically Aziraphale’s. He was always doing that, come to think of it. Crowley’s instinct to take and keep reminders of the angel had saved their very lives in fact.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> Aziraphale remembered the hopelessness he felt when he’d projected to Crowley in that pub and had been told all his books had burned, including the highly important book of prophecy.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Agnes Nutter! I have it!” Crowley had cried, holding up the slightly singed book like a prize. “<em> Souvenir </em>!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>A <em> souvenir </em> to remember Aziraphale if he was gone forever. A feather to remember Aziraphale if he left. He could feel the traces of emotion still lingering on the lid of the box. Fear, Loneliness, grief and an impossibly deep love. He uttered another involuntary gasp before he snapped the box closed and returned it to the safe, taking the resin and hurrying into the sitting room to retrieve the burner from his bag.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The sun was up and Crowley would wake soon. They would talk about all of this then.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>An hour and a half passed before Crowley stumbled out of the bedroom, his hair rumpled adorably. The incense had burned down, but the front of the flat was still heavily perfumed with pine. Aziraphale had already miracled the charcoal away lest he stain his fingers with it. He avidly watched the demon sniff and taste the air. Crowley eyed Aziraphale with mock suspicion. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’m barely awake and you’re drugging me again, Angel?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Mm, what can I say?” Aziraphale smiled at Crowley’s crooked grin as the demon sauntered over to him. “I am reckless in my academic pursuits.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You’re reckless in general, you silly twit,” he growled playfully into Aziraphale’s hair. “Did you miracle yourself across town just to get more of this stuff?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Hardly necessary since I had a whole bag of it in your safe,” Aziraphale smirked, watching Crowley freeze with his trademark <em> ‘ngk’ </em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>“But it was— “</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Behind a <em> painting </em>, Crowley. How terribly obvious of you. And using the equivalent of your birthdate for the combination?” He scoffed, enjoying Crowley’s blush. “I’m honestly embarrassed for you.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“<em>B</em><em>irthdate </em>? That’s stupid. ‘M a demon. Wasn’t born at all, was I?” he drawled, clearly grasping for some kind of dignity. “Wasn’t a birthdate, it was just the year I first met—“ He cut himself off, flushing all over again, then abruptly turned on his heel and made for the kitchen. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Aziraphale knew he must have been grinning as widely as when he had learned to gavotte. Crowley’s combination was the year he’d met <em> him! </em>  “Oh!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Don’t!” Crowley warned from the kitchen, wielding a chef’s knife.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You sweet darling <em> Romantic!</em>” Aziraphale gushed. “You delightful <em> sweetheart </em>!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I promise you, Angel, your breakfast is in great peril at the moment!” Crowley hissed, bright pink.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Aziraphale continued to grin, joining his demon to press a kiss to his annoyed mouth. “Fine. I shan’t say another word about it,” he demurred and Crowley set the knife to work on some veg. “I <em> certainly </em>won’t bring up what else I found in your safe…” Aziraphale hinted innocently. Crowley froze again, mid-chop, and slowly glanced sideways at him. His eyes were wary now, the humour and annoyance completely gone, replaced with apprehension. Aziraphale chose not to let him fret, wrapping his arms around Crowley’s slim waist and kissing him soundly.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Sneaking off with one of my feathers, you rogue,” he teased. “When did you manage that, you crafty thing?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Crowley blushed furiously. It was exceedingly fetching. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Don’t recall. Could have been any number of times really,” he squawked. “You’re always a bloody mess with your feathers, you know. You never take care of them so—”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh?” Aziraphale flirted, tracing a finger under Crowley’s chin so the redhead would look at him. “Are you offering to groom my wings then?” he joked. Crowley’s eyes dilated at the suggestion and Aziraphale suddenly had the impression of being a mouse before a hawk.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yeah.” Crowley’s voice sounded raw and gruff. “Yeah, I’ll groom your wings for you, Angel.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Now Aziraphale was the one blushing. Sidetracked already. He truly <em> was </em>reckless. He cleared his throat. “We’re to meet Thea in a couple hours for another lesson, but before that, I was hoping you and I might talk a bit.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Crowley looked unenthused at the prospect, but he nodded. They made and ate breakfast, with plenty of playful jests and affectionate nuzzling from Crowley, who was still pleasantly swimming in pine resin scent. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>At one point Aziraphale felt the demon’s socked foot slide up his leg under the table and settle lewdly in his lap. Amused topaz eyes shone at him in open challenge as deft toes began to wiggle enticingly. Aziraphale let himself smirk back and Crowley took that as permission to rub in earnest, prompting an undignified squeak from the angel. It wasn’t clear if this bit of friskiness was simply Crowley being playful and willing, or if it was another ploy to distract Aziraphale. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Either way it didn’t fit into the angel’s plan so he deftly captured Crowley’s foot with his hands and used the opportunity to gently massage the arch. The demon gasped in surprise and then moaned blissfully. Aziraphale smiled fondly at Crowley’s continued acceptance of his touch.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’ve been thinking about this obsessive fantasy of yours,” Aziraphale began hesitantly, unable to find a segue into discussing it. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“S’not important…” Crowley murmured immediately, eyes closed as he leaned back in his chair, still enjoying the massage.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Except, it is important to <em> you </em>,” Aziraphale maintained. “And I’d like to know why.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Why?” Crowley snorted. “Don’t think there is a <em> why </em> behind sexual fantasies, Angel. They just are.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Aziraphale was dubious. He certainly wasn’t above the odd fantasy himself. Looking back, he’d had a number of them, although his weren’t overtly sexual in nature. Some were embarrassingly narcissistic (Aziraphale showing Crowley the error of his ways, Convincing the demon to join him, move in with him even. Writing a novel together!) but under all of them was the simple desire to be with Crowley, to keep him in some way. As for Crowley, one didn’t really need to be a genius to link the demon’s past, and his obvious self-hatred, with a fantasy about being tormented.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Aziraphale watched Crowley carefully, pressing his thumb into his achilles tendon and watching him groan happily. He wanted to be careful here. He didn’t wish Crowley to feel alienated for having desires. Aziraphale felt himself flush again as he decided to confess his own in hopes of evening the field.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What you told me about…” he fumbled for the words, inexperienced in discussing these things, “Er...about France, and the crepes?” He glanced over at Crowley again but the demon was still leaning back in the chair with his eyes closed and a faint smile on his lips. “I feel I should tell you that you weren’t alone in fantasizing about that.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Crowley’s eyes flew open but he didn’t move an inch. Aziraphale tittered nervously, but forced himself to continue. “Well, anyway...I suppose it makes perfect sense, at least on my part. I had been chained up and you showed up to rescue me looking— <em> how you looked </em>, and I think I wanted to kiss you even back then.” He fiddled with his teacup, averting his eyes shyly. “So when you told me about your fantasy, about me tasting you like the crepes, well...I’ve been giving that more thought recently than is strictly necessary or proper…” He bit his lip, deciding it was likely not the time to get into how he had brought himself to release, writhing on his bed, imagining Crowley slathered in blueberry sauce, chocolate, and heavy whipped cream.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Angel?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Aziraphale cleared his throat, and made himself look up. Crowley was leaning forward again, very interested in the conversation now. Aziraphale blushed. Job well done, then. Huzzah. “My <em> point </em> though is that I care deeply for you, and I’m very attracted to you, and quite fond of <em> crepes </em>so there is no mystery behind that fantasy,” he took a deep breath. “Could there be something more profound beneath your desire to be humiliated and tortured?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Obviously,” Crowley grumbled, surprising them both. The demon boggled for a moment, then winced, then sighed dramatically with a hiss and muttered <em> “bloody Thea” </em>for some reason. Aziraphale decided the best course was to wait for Crowley to continue and for once it paid off.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Look, <em> firstly </em>, I don’t want to be ‘tortured’. I’m not a lunatic, Angel. Pain and torture aren’t necessarily the same thing. And— I don’t want to be humiliated either. I want…” he trailed off for a moment, his eyes taking on that lost, begging look they had last night. “I want to answer for the things I’ve done. I want it all scoured away.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Aziraphale bit his lip to keep himself from launching into a shrill litany of praise in Crowley’s defense. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’ve really hurt people, Aziraphale. It wasn’t just silly mischief. I was actually <em> ambitious </em> once! I did Hell’s work with gusto. I tempted people into unspeakable acts. Some more recent then you might care to know. And I can’t be what you need until I am punished for that.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Aziraphale sighed. Crowley was already everything he needed and more. It wasn’t as though any of this was news to the angel. “So, let’s say, hypothetically, that you are punished for your sins. What exactly do you gain from that?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Ehhhnnnggg,” Crowley made a face as if tasting something foul. “Redemption?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh, Crowley,” Aziraphale breathed. What a thing to say. As far as Aziraphale was concerned if there ever existed a demon worthy of redemption it was Crowley. However the only one with the authority to grant that was God Herself, and if she hadn’t already then… “I wish I could give you that, my dear, if it is what you really want...to be...to be an angel again. To return to Heaven.” His heart felt like stone at the thought of it. Crowley, just another singing heavenly automaton, sneering down at him like all the rest.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Wot? Angel! Heaven!?” Crowley looked disgusted, and Aziraphale looked up at him, hopeful again. “Yerrchh, Fuck no! That is <em> not </em>what I want. Yuck. Don’t be a fucking idiot!” Crowley yanked his foot off Aziraphale’s lap and strode away from the table, shuddering and shaking his limbs out in utter revulsion. It was a bit much, to be honest.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What I really want is to get some bloody control over myself, all right?” he complained. “You don’t know what it is like, Aziraphale. I’m angry all the bloody time. It’s always right under my skin, burning hellfire, and I lash out without thinking and I hurt— I am always just hurting people and I can’t fucking stop!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Oh.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Oh!</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Oh, this was something Aziraphale knew something about! Control! Of course!</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Crowley folded his arms over his chest and glared at him sullenly. “You’re smiling. Why are you smiling?” he demanded.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I can help you!” Aziraphale rejoiced, standing so abruptly he knocked his chair over. He left it where it fell and rushed to Crowley, taking his hands. The demon let him, looking such a profound mix of sorrowful and exhausted and under it all, that keen desire to surrender.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Crowley, my darling, don’t you see?” Aziraphale gave the silly demon a little shake before pulling him into a tight embrace. “I’ve been forced to control everything, no matter how minute or insignificant, for so long. I’m sure we could meet somewhere in the middle. I’m positive I could...train you in a way, to control your impulses,” he drew back a little then, suddenly worried about coming on too strongly. “That is, if you’d like me to. If you’d be willing to let me help you.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Crowley was watching him, eyes wide with trepidation, before they softened into something fond and appreciative and still somehow sad. “I am not going to be an easy pupil, Angel. I’m not sure you’re up to the task.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Aziraphale stared at him, feeling the long fingers splay out on the small of his back. He <em> had </em> to know that sounded like a challenge. He <em> had </em> to know what that would do to Aziraphale. Thin lips curled into a little smirk. Golden eyes mellowed slightly, tinged with mischief. He <em> definitely </em>knew. Aziraphale let the power go to his head immediately.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You know,” he purred. “Some of these lessons in control could be...highly entertaining.” He slipped his hands down Crowley’s back to palm his arse and press their hips together. The crooked smirk grew into a sly grin. “I think we should begin lessons tonight, but if you are still interested in answering for things—” Aziraphale lifted Crowley into his arms, smiling at the look of surprise across his face. “You can answer for that little stunt with your foot in my lap.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He carried Crowley into the bedroom and the demon answered for it in spades.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>*****</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Thea entered her apartment and dropped the leather leash just inside the door as Roan padded sulkily in after her. She sighed and stooped to unfasten the green harness and free the poor animal. Aziraphale had summoned the items up before he left her the other day, making her promise she would work on building her bond with Roan, while also leash training her.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I know you hate it, but there are rules we have to follow if you’re going to stay here,” she explained. The slitted yellow eyes stared at her, unimpressed. She was getting a bit tired of slitted yellow eyes looking at her like that.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You’re as bad as Crowley, you know that?” she grumbled, rolling her eyes at the series of growling squeaks that provoked. Roan didn’t like Crowley. Even though communicating with the fox was a little foggy still (mostly images and feelings and smells and a general understanding of how those things fit together somehow), but this was clear as a bell. <em> Things that smelled like that should be avoided at all costs! </em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I told you, he’s not like other demons,” she promised. Roan was dubious. “He’s coming today, so be on your best behaviour,” she begged. “I don’t think I can keep you here if he really gets it in his head you should go. Do you still want to stay?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Roan jogged over to the loveseat and dug her toy mouse out of the cushion and barked a string of curses. She had already offered Crowley her toy and he had discarded it. Thea nodded. “Yes, I know. Very rude, wasn’t it? But you have to be gentle with him Roan. He’s just so very stupid and he may have lost his mate.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Roan huffed and settled onto the seat to pout. Thea checked the time and whined to herself. They’d be here soon and the kitchen was a mess. If she didn’t get to it, then Aziraphale would wash up and she <em> hated </em> when he did that. It made her feel like a child. She hurried into the kitchen, still arguing with a fox.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“With any luck the angel will be here too,” she called, collecting her dishes and dumping them in the sink with the ice cream bowls from last night and five new spoons. “You like the angel, remember?”</p>
<p>Thea’s view of Roan was blocked by the couch, but she could see the tips of the fuzzy black ears poke up at the mention of Aziraphale. She did like Aziraphale, even though he was the one insisting she be on a leash.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Thea cleaned the dishes with the quick efficiency of one who had been working minimum wage jobs before she was old enough for it to be legal. Her cleaning was facilitated by nervous energy. She didn't know what to expect having Aziraphale and Crowley here together after what the demon had shared with her yesterday evening. Today promised to be awkward as fuck.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>And yet, when the door busted open with barely a knock and the demon sauntered in all  attitude and loud snark (that basically screamed joy), Thea decided she didn't have to worry. Aziraphale followed him in the door, carrying a large canvas shopping tote. She eyed it suspiciously and the angel immediately began a lecture about the assumed lack of vegetables in her diet. <em> So much for not being treated like a child </em>. Thea muttered her thanks, while the angel made himself at home in her kitchen, all but forcing her out. She rolled her eyes and joined Crowley in the sitting room, weaving around Roan (who apparently chose fucking off to the bedroom over staying too close to Crowley.) The demon had launched himself at the couch and claimed its territory—as usual— and was scrolling through his phone as Thea sat down in her chair so he didn't see her smirk immediately.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"So… did you two <em>make</em> <em>up</em>?" she murmured quietly, popping the p suggestively.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Fuck off," Crowley groaned good naturedly before throwing a cushion at her. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Aw, it's nice," she teased. "It's sweet. I'm happy for you bo— " she cut off as the other cushion caught her in the face. She grabbed it and retaliated, swatting him back. "You fucked up. Now you're out of ammo."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Crowley gave her a fond look. "Oh, you sweet little idiot," he cooed before snapping a fucking pile of cushions into existence.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Oh no!" she cried, half seriously because she somehow honestly forgot that was a thing Crowley could do too. She shrieked as the barrage came, laughing more than she had in a long fucking time until Aziraphale yelled at them both from the kitchen.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"The last thing we need is another blasted electrical storm," he scolded. "I mean it, Crowley. Stop it at once."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Thea peered over the pile of cushions she was half buried under, grinning at the affronted demon. "Yeah, Crowley. Stop it."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Crowley mimed a couple highly detailed death threats at her while Aziraphale wasn’t looking. They were extremely impressive so she clapped quietly then they both made super innocent faces as Aziraphale finally stopped stocking her kitchen with grown up food and joined them.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“How are things progressing with Roan?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“She hates the harness and leash,” Thea sighed, sinking into all the cushions. “It feels too restrictive and things are already weird enough for her. Does she really need it?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She <em> knew </em> Roan would stay by her side if she wanted her to. The leash felt like an insult. Thea didn’t like it either. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’ve already explained that the harness holds a glamour to convince people Roan is a common pet,” Aziraphale reiterated. “I would <em> assume </em>you’d prefer not to have to deal with the complication of humans knowing you’re walking around with a feral animal.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“How much trouble do you get into walking around with Crowley?” she grinned. Crowley made a very scary noise without looking up from his phone. Aziraphale frowned at her and Thea sat back into her mountain of cushions and sulked. “Fine. We’ll keep practicing with it.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Excellent,” his response was dry. “Since it is quite nice out, I’ve come up with an outdoor assignment for you.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Thea perked up again. She hadn’t been allowed out past the courtyard since the storm happened. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Take Roan with you to Green Park. Walk around with the humans and try to pick up on their emotions, like we practiced last week from the balcony. Remember to keep yourself grounded and…” he continued rehashing her previous lessons and Thea let her gaze drift off into the middle distance. Empathy work again. Hurray. Because if there was one thing that was going to protect her from massive celestial and infernal threats it was going to be knowing whether or not the kid in the beanie was depressed. This was a sandbox activity pure and simple. Aziraphale didn’t trust her to control herself. She <em> knew </em> that because of the fucking Empathy lessons. Shit. You electrocute your superpowered godparents one and half times and they just never let it go.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yep. Keep my centre, and know where my feelings end and theirs begin,” she recited. “I will try ever so hard not to throw any lightning in the park, Az,” she added.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You may be tired of this work, Thea, but I assure you it is important,” Aziraphale insisted peevishly. “Crowley and I will join you in a couple hours, then we’ll send Roan back to your flat and we can get a late lunch at the Ritz!” He said the last bit with a delighted little wiggle that suggested a late lunch at the Ritz was his favourite damn thing in the world (which did seem on brand for him) and Thea tried her best to smile at the prospect while her appetite nosedived into low grade nausea. She had never stepped foot in a fancy restaurant in her life, let alone the fucking Ritz. Everything about places like that were designed to keep people like her out. It might be unfair and classist and arbitrary but Thea couldn’t help feeling profoundly outclassed.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Lunch. Great. Good,” she muttered, and Aziraphale nodded happily before repeating her instructions again from the beginning.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>*****</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Crowley pretended to scroll through his phone as he watched Aziraphale run Thea through her assignment a third time. Thea's mood was darkening by the word and she grabbed her coat and her woolen cap (Touque, she'd called it. He loved it) and hollered for the fox, cutting Aziraphale off. The angel pressed his lips into a frown as Thea snatched up the harness and left with the vermin without another word.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Kids, eh?" Crowley drawled as Aziraphale huffed and flapped about, exasperated, before going out onto the narrow balcony overlooking the park. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He watched Aziraphale in earnest now. It wouldn't work in Crowley's favour to have him in a snit all day. He vanished all the extra cushions (in case seeing them started another scolding) and joined the angel outside. He was already scanning the park, focussed and tense. Crowley wrapped his arms around his waist and hooked his chin over Aziraphale's shoulder, earning a tight smile.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Not comfortable letting Thea off-leash?" he questioned. "Want me to shadow her?" Aziraphale sighed and his expression softened.  </p>
<p> </p>
<p>"I do appreciate that offer very much, dear boy, but it won't be necessary," the angel replied, sounding a little guilty. "Just because she isn't aware of the leash doesn't mean there isn't one."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Thea and the fox exited the lobby below, the fox complaining in loud squeaky barks that echoed off the buildings, but it was wearing the harness and the older couple walking by didn't spare the irritating creature a second glance.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Aziraphale watched her cross the street silently. Was he planning on spending the hour out here?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"You know," he murmured playfully, nuzzling a blonde curl behind Aziraphale's ear. "Watching you be the strict school master is pretty hot."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Really, Crowley? That's not very creative."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"The classics are classic for a reason, Angel," he purred. "Looking forward to <em> my </em> lessons."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"And I'm looking forward to finding out if you can learn something." Aziraphale replied curtly. </p>
<p> </p>
<p><em> Okay then. </em> The angel was clearly not in the mood, and Crowley wasn't going to push it. He untangled his arms from the angel and retreated back inside. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Aziraphale half turned to watch him go. "That came out harsher than I intended," he told Crowley before the demon closed the sliding door.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Yup. S'okay. Not offended," the demon lied. "Solid point anyway. Always been bloody-minded, me. Maybe...maybe best not to bother, eh?"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Aziraphale sighed loudly and turned his full attention back to Thea's progress down below. The demon forced himself to stand straight, refusing to slink off as he wanted to. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>So what if Crowley was a bit disappointed. It was only fair to give the poor angel a break. He was clearly being spread too thin, working with a recalcitrant Thea was more than enough stress to put on his shoulders on top of everything else he’d been suffering through.<em> Stupid, fucking stupid </em> . Crowley should have put his foot down that morning when the angel had suggested— but that fucking catnip made him feel (what was the word?) <em> hopeful </em>.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Fuck. Nope. Maybe that resin shit <em> was </em> a bad idea. Crowley had just realized yesterday how badly Aziraphale was likely hurting, how Crowley’s behaviour was making it all worse and how does he go about making it better? By begging for his touch, to be fucked to sleep? Making the angel responsible for <em> his </em> lack of self-control? Aziraphale had seemed so eager to help, but <em> of course </em>he was. Aziraphale would never turn down someone who needed him. He’d never put himself first, no matter the cost to himself. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Crowley sank into the couch again, burying his face in his hands. He had to get his shit together, and he had to do it alone. He needed to find a way to be there for Aziraphale now, instead of being another heavy responsibility.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Don’t get comfortable, dear,” Aziraphale’s voice called from across the room. “It is time to go.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Crowley looked up at the angel, confused, then glanced at his watch. Fuck. It really had been nearly an hour. Time sure did fly when you were drowning in self-pity.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>*****</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Thea’s mood improved with the fresh air and exercise. The breeze was cool but the sun was shining and the park was full of people. She and Roan made a few stops to talk to people. Some would ask what breed Roan was and she’d pretend she didn’t know. “Rescue,” she’d explain, which wasn’t strictly a lie. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>She poked around here and there with her Empathy and found it unusually challenging. Roan was always sending her messages, distracting her, and she’d get strange intrusive bouts of feelings when she passed larger groups of people. She rolled her eyes at herself, realizing this was probably the whole point of this seemingly pointless assignment. She took it more seriously now. Concentrated on the people around her. There was the older couple on the bench (madly in love, getting hungry though), and a woman rushing past her (frantic), a couple well dressed men near the pond (clandestine meet up? <em> That </em> was interesting). She continued down the path doing this until she came across a little boy sitting under a tree, hugging his knees (afraid, lonely, <em> lost </em>). </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Thea looked over her shoulder for the frantic woman she’d spotted earlier but she was too far down the path. The child wasn’t likely to go with Thea, stranger danger and all. She decided instead to try something a little risky. She looked down at Roan, who looked back up at her expectantly.</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em> Lost cub, </em>Roan conveyed.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’ll get his mother. Will you stay with him and keep him safe until I come back?” Thea asked quietly, stooping to scratch behind Roan’s ears. Roan sent back a cautious affirmative. Thea unclipped the leash from the enchanted harness and set Roan free. The fox immediately skulked up the little bank to the boy and sat beside him. The child sniffed and timidly reached out to pet her.</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em> Don’t bite </em> , Thea reminded Roan over their link. Roan sat rigidly, clearly not enjoying being petted by another human, but allowed it. Thea raced back down the path, not wanting to test Roan’s patience anymore than necessary. When she found the boy’s mother and led her back, Thea was impressed to find that Roan hadn’t moved, despite the boy now hugging her around the neck. Thea clipped the leash back into place, waving off the mother’s gratitude, happy to have been able to do something good and very proud of her fox. Maybe Empathy wasn’t a <em> totally </em>useless skill.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Thea walked Roan back the way they'd come slowly, trying to shake off the residue of fear, loss and desperation that still clung to her Empathy like frost. She found her way back to the elderly couple who were just vacating their bench. They smiled at her as they passed and Thea took their bench, shrugging off the overflow of their romantic love now with limited success. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Her heart ached as she watched the couple leave arm in arm. She was supposed to grow old with Anna. Now that plan was shot to hell and the chances of her growing old <em>at</em> <em>all</em> seemed pretty dim.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>That was a thought. She took out her phone and fired off a text to Crowley before she thought better of it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> Should we discuss arrangements for my remains if all this goes south?  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She cursed herself immediately after sending it, wondering how to soften the jagged edges of the text. Words failed her, her mood threatening to spiral.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She watched nervously as the dancing dots of Crowley's reply came up then stopped. A minute later they did the same thing and vanished again. His inferred discomfort nudged her to action so she texted again.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> Nevermind. On second thought it honestly doesn't matter. </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>And it was true. She had a lot of friendly acquaintances back in Canada but none that would bury her bones. The only one who would have cared about her ashes was already so much dust herself. If Aziraphale and Crowley took her body back to Canada, or poured her down the nearest storm drain it would make no difference. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>That was ugly thinking. Thea was sure Aziraphale would come up with something perfectly lovely. Maybe Crowley would even look up from his phone.</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em> You're wallowing, </em> Anna's ghost chided. <em> You are the only thing left of what used to be "us". You better keep going.  </em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>Thea squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself not to start blubbering like a baby in the middle of a busy London park. So it was a small relief when she opened her eyes to find herself sitting between an angel and a demon and no longer able to dwell on her lost love.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"You two are <em> quiet </em>," she joked weakly, biting her lip to keep from crying again when Aziraphale patted her hand. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>"You were deep in thought. We didn't want to disturb you," the angel responded kindly. She didn't trust her voice yet so she nodded her thanks before sneaking a nervous look at Crowley. He hadn't answered her second text, and now he barely gave her a tight smile before looking away. At least Thea could count on the consistency of her awkwardness.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The breeze picked up, tossing her hair a bit and lifting the end of the demon's silly scarf which slapped her in the chin. She grabbed it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Oi!" Crowley snapped, snatching it back.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"It was on my part of the bench," Thea argued, playfully reaching for the scarf again, thankful for a distraction.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"I don't control the wind, do I? Sod off!"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"I don't know. <em> Do you? </em>" She managed to snag a corner of it again before Crowley slapped her hand and actually hissed at her.  Thea laughed.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"We should head off then," Aziraphale reminded them, smiling patiently. "If you two are quite done."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>******</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"No!" Crowley snarled again half-heartedly as the three of them continued down the path. Thea was <em> still </em> trying to acquire his scarf and now Aziraphale was playing along, having argued that Crowley could simply summon another one.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The game was preferable to dealing with the girl's text though. He still didn't know what she expected <em> him </em> of all people to do with that load of emotional baggage. He was glad she'd come to her senses.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"You don't even like it, remember?" he reminded her of how she'd insulted the scarf (and pretty much everything else about Crowley) several weeks ago when she was still angry.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"It's grown on me," she grinned. "Now I want it."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Honestly, Crowley. You're being terribly selfish" Aziraphale teased. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Supposed to be selfish, aren't I?" he smirked back. "And look! Here we are at the edge of the park. Time to send the fleabag away!"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Thea and Aziraphale both snickered but they left off trying to steal his accessories and set about separating the fox from hers. Crowley stretched as he drew up a little demonic energy to hide them from mortal eyes as the harness came off and Aziraphale could miracle the fox home unseen. Thea tucked the leash and harness into her satchel.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Have you dined at the Ritz before, Thea?” Aziraphale asked the girl, taking her under his arm as they crossed toward the luxurious hotel. Thea mumbled that she hadn’t, and Crowley took in the slight drag of her feet, the twitch in her jaw that suggested she was biting the inside of her cheek. He frowned. Why was she suddenly so nervous?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You are going to love it, my dear girl,” Aziraphale exclaimed happily. “I’m so excited to share this with you. It really is a spectacular dining experience.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I bet,” Thea agreed, casting a nervous glance at a couple well dressed patrons. “Just a bit...rich for my blood, you know?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ah. That explained it. Thea’s eyes seemed to take in the marble paneled walls, elegant carvings and heavy expensive drapery and the girl practically began to implode with self-consciousness.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Fuck, isn’t there some kind of dress code?” she squeaked.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Nonsense,” Aziraphale wheeled her along. “You don’t need to worry about that. We’ve taken care of everything.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>They were shown to their table by the smartly dressed host who didn’t seem remotely concerned with Crowley’s jeans, or Thea’s fleecy leggings and scruffy coat. Aziraphale pulled the seat out for Thea, always the gentleman, and she smiled wanly before hiding behind the menu. Crowley snorted under his breath when her eyes widened in alarm at the menu items, and more probably, the prices. Aziraphale had dragged her far out of her comfort zone here and seemed oblivious of the fact.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What are you in the mood for, my dear?” he cooed. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I really don’t know,” she answered weakly, going over the short lunch menu again. “I’m really not that hungry so maybe the...tomato consomme?” she suggested, giving Aziraphale a nervous look as if worried she’d answered wrong. Judging by Aziraphale’s face, she had. She bit her lip and returned to looking over the menu.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“We could always head off,” Crowley suggested lightly. “There are all sorts of places to —”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Don’t be ridiculous, Crowley,” Aziraphale snapped, lowering his voice. “This is Thea’s first time dining here! We’re not going to just <em> leave </em>.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Crowley tossed Thea a ‘I tried’ look and shrugged. When the waiter came around for their orders, Crowley requested a glass of the Château Pape Clément, and Aziraphale ordered from the three-course menu for himself and Thea, who looked completely bulldozed. She idly played with her spoon as Aziraphale chatted pleasantly about the history of the hotel and the ways human luxury had changed over time. Crowley sat back in his seat and smiled widely at them. The angel was as happy and content as the human was glum and nervous. It was a striking display of contrast and superbly amusing to the demon. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Crowley stretched his legs a little under the table and crossed his ankles as he settled in to watch Aziraphale extol the beauty and exceptional standards of the Ritz. <em> Bloody Heaven </em>, the angel was absurd and Crowley loved him desperately. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He was experimenting with admitting that to himself. It wasn’t shocking him that he loved <em> Aziraphale </em> , so much as he was surprised to find that he <em> loved </em>at all. That was new to him. Aziraphale was laughing now at his own joke, (something about the chandeliers) and Crowley smiled, setting his chin in his palm as the angel’s eyes crinkled with mirth, imprinting the image on Crowley’s soul like a brand.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The server came around with the bordeaux and Crowley lifted his glass to the side to be filled, not wanting to take his eyes off Aziraphale, but unfortunately it was expected that he go through the performance of tasting the wine and telling the server it was acceptable before they’d pour a proper glass. As he lifted the crystal to his nose, Thea knocked her ice water over, soaking the top of the table cloth. Her face was pale, and she looked at her hands as she apologized profusely and begged the server for some more napkins. Crowley watched her carefully, suddenly on high alert. It hadn’t been an accident. He’d missed something. The server grumbled something and left, and Thea had made herself as small as possible. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What is it, dear?” Aziraphale whispered, taking her hand in concern.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Don’t drink that,” Thea muttered, her voice cast low and urgent. Crowley immediately set the glass down away from him, schooling his features into an impassive expression as he always did when he sensed he was in danger but wasn’t yet sure of the threat. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“There’s another demon here,” she shuddered, sinking back into her chair. "He doesn't know I can see him.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Crowley's skin crawled. If the warning about the wine was any indication, then it was the server who stood behind him the whole time Crowley was fawning like an idiot.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Gracious, a demon <em> here </em>?" Aziraphale huffed, earning him a sour look from Crowley.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It could just be some infernal bloke on assignment. Plenty of opportunities to cause trouble in a place like this, so close to the upper class. It made perfect sense that downstairs would dispatch a new demon to stir things up now that Crowley couldn’t be trusted, (<em> extra </em> couldn’t be trusted? Trust wasn’t really a thing in Hell. Maybe more accurate to say he couldn’t be controlled? That made Crowley smile a bit.)</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“All right, <em> don’t panic </em>,” Crowley drawled, picking up his water glass in lieu of wine. “What’s the bugger look like?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Crowley certainly didn’t know all the demons of Hell but he’d run into a fair number of them over the years, and if the higher ups had indeed sent someone to fill Crowley’s boots, he may recognize them. It was idle curiosity, really, wondering who his replacement would be. He certainly didn’t care. He was out of the game, right? </p>
<p> </p>
<p>It better be someone entertaining.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Thea described the creature she’d seen in quick, quiet details, casting furtive glances toward a server standing off to the side of the dining room. Crowley’s stomach dropped into his legs as she spoke.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Tall and pale. He looks damp and there is something...I can’t make it out, but something seems stuck to the side of his face. His eyes are all black and— “ she winced here, almost gagged. “Oh fuck, the hate. I’ve never felt anything like this. He hates you, Crowley.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Crowley set the water glass down suddenly before he could spill it all over himself with his shaking hands. <em> Hastur. </em> Hastur was here. Hastur had been behind him without him knowing. He’d been within arms reach of Thea, of Aziraphale. <em> Fucking Bloody Hastur! </em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>He cleared his throat and forced his stiff facial muscles in a smile. He suspected it looked more like a rictus of terror. Aziraphale met his gaze, ashen and appalled.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Right. So,” Crowley quipped while pointedly eyeing the exit. “We might want to revisit the whole panicking thing.”</p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Can't Stop Won't Stop writing in cliff hangers!<br/>Can't Stop Won't Stop hangin' over them cliffs!</p>
<p>This Chapter also marks the beginning of the Great Scarf War, which will inevitably only end one way.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Ketchup, Kindness, & Kitty Carriers</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>After meeting near disaster at the Ritz, Aziraphale and Crowley worry that the timetable on Thea’s execution has been moved up, forcing them to reach out to Gabriel for assistance.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Continued love and affection for PinkPenguinParade for all the beta help. I would be lost without her.</p><p>This isn’t a scary chapter and the conflict within is pretty self contained to an impromptu therapy session. Please remember that deep seated psychological issues should probably been seen by a licensed mental health professional and not stressed out angelic booksellers, even if they are trying their very best.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em> Unholy war </em>
</p><p>
  <em> My demons are coming </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Boy, you better run </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Go take your freedom,  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Wade in the water </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Be gone by morning </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Don't you let them find you here </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Let love lead you home,  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Let redemption keep you warm </em>
</p><p>
  <em> you better run </em>
</p><p> </p><p><em> Unholy War </em> <em> - Jacob Banks </em></p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>It wasn’t the most elegant escape Crowley had ever fashioned but elegance never really mattered to most demons, and Crowley could take it or leave it as a general rule. He prided himself on being able to keep up with Aziraphale (when he chose to) but if the situation called for it, Crowley was more than willing to go cheap and dirty.</p><p> </p><p>So it happened that when Hastur started toward them again (and Aziraphale seemed devoid of any plans), Crowley utilized the element of surprise (while he still had it) darting to his feet and flinging the entire table at the disguised Duke of Hell. The table caught Hastur full on, knocking him and another server over in a spill of porcelain and white linen, while Crowley dragged Thea and Aziraphale to their feet.</p><p> </p><p>So it happened that he had caused a sudden and devastating amount of upset in the otherwise posh and luxurious dining room of Aziraphale’s favourite restaurant.</p><p> </p><p>There would be consequences for that, but, given the situation, Crowley chose Aziraphale’s ire over Hastur’s glee.</p><p> </p><p>The three of them fled the hotel among shouts and Crowley didn’t stop until he’d gotten a good block and a half away. Thea was gasping hard, pressed against Crowley’s side either for protection or just to hold herself up after the mad sprint. Her eyes were wild with fear and confusion. Aziraphale was also out of sorts, puffing and resting with his back against a wall, looking back the way they came.</p><p> </p><p>“Can you see him?” Crowley snapped at Thea. “Isss he coming?”</p><p> </p><p>Thea scanned the street, slowly shaking her head.  “I don’t see him. I don’t feel him anymore either. I don’t think he was expecting you to do that.”</p><p> </p><p>“Nor was I,” Aziraphale fumed, shooting Crowley a furious glare. “I’m sure we could have managed an escape that wouldn’t have caused so much calamity.”</p><p> </p><p>“I didn’t see you coming up with one,” Crowley shot back. The angel had his priorities badly misplaced.</p><p> </p><p>“He was in the mind to kill Crowley,” Thea declared. “I think he was after <em> me </em> at one point but he saw Crowley and —” she shook her head and moaned, pitching sideways slightly until Crowley steadied her on her feet again. “It was the right call.”</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale’s glare melted considerably at that and he nodded, Crowley’s behaviour apparently forgiven. “This is distressing,” he huffed. Crowley bit his tongue before he could shout <em> Oh is it? Might that be why I just executed some low level bloody flying down a busy street? Dragging you two freeloaders along I might add.  </em></p><p> </p><p>“Too right,” he muttered instead. “Seems our time window is closing. So much for our six months.”</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale looked doubly distressed now and Crowley felt Thea shivering where she stood, still leaning against his side. And to think just a couple hours ago Crowley had been coming up with a plan to tempt Aziraphale into a nice evening stroll. The cherry blossoms were thinking of opening and he figured a warm snog in the park might convince a few trees to pop early. Count on Hastur to kill the mood.</p><p> </p><p>“I thought I had at least three months,” Thea fretted. “I’m nowhere near ready for this yet. His hatred alone nearly made me pass out!”</p><p> </p><p>“Was it Hastur?” Aziraphale asked Crowley, finally peeling himself off the wall and taking the trembling girl under his arm. Crowley nodded, an angry hiss sneaking past his lips before he could stop it. Aziraphale sighed, worrying his lip in his teeth.</p><p> </p><p>“Blast. Gabriel gave his word,” Aziraphale uttered quietly, as if to himself. Crowley’s angry snort made the angel look up sharply.</p><p> </p><p>“Are you honestly surprised that he lied?”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not remotely surprised that <em> Beelzebub </em> lied, Crowley, but Gabriel?” Aziraphale glowered and shook his head. “No. Gabriel is rigid, unfeeling, and certainly cruel at times, but he isn’t a liar.”</p><p> </p><p>“Nng.” Crowley was less trusting but that went without saying.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll have to get in touch with him,” Aziraphale sighed, looking extremely put out. “If the timeline has moved up we should have been informed.”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley hated the idea of seeing that pompous archangel’s face again, but it <em> would </em> be wise to confirm their dates. He’d always hated the ‘maybe three months, maybe six’ of this ultimatum so far. And if Beez really was working against Gabriel’s prior assurances then Crowley might be able to manipulate the archangel into intervening. Gabriel was certainly guilty of a metric arseload of pride.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not letting him in my flat, or Thea’s,” Crowley said firmly. “We going to the shop then?”</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t particularly enjoy the thought of having him back at the shop either,” Aziraphale objected with an irritated yank on his waistcoat. “Perhaps we could find a fairly secluded spot on neutral ground."</p><p> </p><p>They snuck into a nearby greasy spoon and Thea ordered a plate of chips and three cups of tea while Crowley led Aziraphale to a quiet booth and guarded him while he quietly contacted the archangel. She set the cups on the table and slid into the booth beside Crowley.</p><p> </p><p>"Did it work?" Thea asked when Aziraphale finally opened his eyes. Aziraphale gave an exhausted nod. Crowley wasn't overly worried (the angel always looked like that after speaking to Gabriel) but his black heart ached for him all the same. There was always going to be another harsh complication to communicating with angels now. At least for <em> this </em> he didn't need that silly magic circle of his. </p><p> </p><p>"He'll be along," Aziraphale assured her, voice quiet.</p><p> </p><p>“How lo—” Thea began before the strong angelic presence filled the small diner and made all three of them cringe slightly for different reasons. Crowley recognized that a ward was now in place and the cook wiping down the counter to their right was no longer aware of any of them. Gabriel surveyed the eatery with a look of disgust that only tripled when his violet eyes set upon Thea.</p><p> </p><p>“I had figured you were calling to tell me it had finally melted,” the archangel sneered. “What do you want?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, hello,” Aziraphale responded without the faintest hint of sarcasm (Crowley would never understand him). “We were wondering if you had heard anything about the time allotment changing because—”</p><p> </p><p>“No, Aziraphale,” Gabriel rolled his eyes, speaking over the Principality. “You have six months, like I told you, although you really shouldn’t need it.” He peered down at Thea as if she were the creepiest of specimens. “It really is holding up well, isn’t, it?”</p><p> </p><p>Thea drew an angry breath and Crowley clamped his hand hard over her knee. She grit her teeth and stayed silent.</p><p> </p><p>“We just spotted Hastur at the Ritz of all places,” Aziraphale interjected quickly before Gabriel could interrupt again. “He tried to ambush us. If both offices are under orders to leave us be, then he must have been there for Thea.”</p><p> </p><p>“Who?”</p><p> </p><p>Thea raised her hand with a sharp little wave, but thankfully kept her mouth shut.</p><p> </p><p>“Thought you were supposed to have sorted Beelzebub out,” Crowley drawled. “Seems they didn’t take you all that seriously.”</p><p> </p><p>Gabriel didn’t so much as glance in Crowley’s direction, the absolute bastard.</p><p> </p><p>“What is a <em> Ritz </em> ?” Gabriel asked instead. “Another of these food markets you’re so fond of?” Aziraphale flushed slightly and for once <em> didn’t </em> go off on a tangent about The Ritz. Crowley didn’t have long to wonder why. The archangel scowled in disgust as Thea distracted herself squirting ketchup on her chips. “You’re still obsessed with all this gross matter, Aziraphale? I see you never bothered to take my suggestion to lose that gut either, you adorable soft—”</p><p> </p><p>Gabriel’s insults ended abruptly in surprise when Thea turned the ketchup bottle around and squirted a substantial amount at the archangel, splattering it across his immaculate silver grey suit and scarf. Crowley froze. Aziraphale had gone completely white. Gabriel paused, unable to believe that just happened.  When Crowley finally worked up enough courage to turn his head he saw Thea set the bottle down, glaring hatefully at the archangel who was starting to snap out of his own shock, giving her his coldest, widest smile.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m sorry,” he chuckled, the sound of cracking ice. “Did neither of these two idiots explain to you that I could annihilate you with a thought?”</p><p> </p><p>“They did,” Thea retorted angrily. “I just forgot.”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley ever so slowly inched away from Thea but Gabriel merely maintained his plastic smile and miracled the condiment off his outfit. It coalesced into a single glob for a moment before he flicked it directly into Thea’s face. She squeaked in alarm, falling back against the booth, rubbing at her eyes and Gabriel turned his attention back on Aziraphale.</p><p> </p><p>“Since I’m here, you might as well give me your report. What abilities does it possess?”</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale was frowning at Thea in alarm and blinked in surprise at the question. “Oh, report? Do I work for you?”</p><p> </p><p>“Nothing much,” Crowley interjected quickly, a plan forming in the back of his brain. “Looks like the miracle was a fluke because she doesn’t seem to be able to heal anymore. There’s some Empathic ability but so far that’s about it.” He smiled his most charming grin at Gabriel who eyed him suspiciously before looking at Aziraphale for confirmation.</p><p> </p><p>“As Crowley said,” Aziraphale sighed, cottoning on. “The angelic side seems to be stronger. Both of these abilities are likely from your influence. We’ve seen no hint of demonic abilities thus far.”</p><p> </p><p>Gabriel actually laughed. “Of course the angelic influence would be stronger. As if there was a doubt.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m certain we would appreciate it if you could confirm that Beelzebub will not act against us again,” Aziraphale requested politely. “After all, it hasn’t even been two months, and you did give us your word.”</p><p> </p><p>“Ugh,” Gabriel groaned. Apparently he found the notion of speaking to Beelzebub as distasteful as they found speaking to him. “Fine. I’ll contact them. Anything else?”</p><p> </p><p>A spoon fell on the middle of the table and skittered to a stop near Crowley who covered it with a hand quickly. Gabriel looked confused for a moment but...</p><p> </p><p>“Did you kill Anna?” Thea demanded angrily. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Oh shit fuck damn. Why? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Thea was still a mess, ketchup clinging to her hair, but her eyes shone with a light that could very well be infernal. Gabriel snorted in derision, and the slightest bit of ozone floated off Thea’s skin. Crowley clamped his hand back on her leg and squeezed hard, mentally begging her to calm the fuck down before she ruined everything. And yeah, the irony wasn’t lost on him.</p><p> </p><p>“Thea,” he warned. </p><p> </p><p>“I don’t know who that is,” Gabriel shrugged glibly at her glare. “From context I’ll assume that is another human, so no. I don’t recall killing any humans recently.”</p><p> </p><p>“She was driving the car!” Thea shouted, ignoring Crowley’s warning. “She was killed when <em> you </em>started all this, you ratfuck!”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley flinched as she raised her voice, bracing for the storm.</p><p> </p><p>But there was no lightning. Instead a wave of grief and rage rolled out of the girl as she glared at the archangel. It was more powerful than what he’d felt weeks ago in the Bentley, and it was <em> focused </em>. It seemed to hit the angels like a gale wind, and Aziraphale fell back against the booth, his eyes quickly welling with tears. </p><p> </p><p>Gabriel swayed slightly, pivoting a foot for stability. He returned Thea’s gaze calmly for a moment, then reached out to her with a slight wave near her head and a minuscule flare of angelic power. <em> That </em> sent Crowley skittering as far as possible in the small booth, just in case, but Gabriel withdrew his power then and Thea seemed to relax. She drew in a shaky gasp, silent tears flowing freely down her ketchup stained cheeks, a healing peace rippling through her. </p><p> </p><p>Crowley felt his lip lift in a silent snarl at that, and was exceedingly disturbed to realize he was <em> jealous </em>. He hastily angled his body away in embarrassment.</p><p> </p><p><em> Are you seriously so desperate for relief that you would accept a divine antidepressant from fucking </em> <em><strong>Gabriel </strong> of all beings? A judgmental tosser fully devoid of any compassion at all. </em></p><p> </p><p>“She was gone when we arrived,” Gabriel told her gently. “I promise you I didn’t kill her.”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley gaped at him. Aziraphale sniffed loudly. Gabriel cleared his throat and vanished. </p><p> </p><p>Crowley closed his eyes behind his glasses and took a deep calming breath. It didn't work.</p><p> </p><p>“What. The. <em> FUCKDIDYOUTHINKYOUWEREDOING </em>?!” Crowley shouted at the idiot girl.</p><p> </p><p>“Oi!” came an angry voice from behind the counter. Obviously the ward left with Gabriel and now the cook was glaring at Crowley. “Don’t speak to the lady like—”</p><p> </p><p><em> “Sod all the fuck off!” </em> Crowley hissed nonsensical but still menacing, and the man immediately left to the kitchen. Crowley turned his irate glare back on Thea who had the fucking <em> audacity </em> to roll her eyes.</p><p> </p><p>"I wasn't going to let him weight-shame Aziraphale and, in my defense, I've been very clear about my impulse control issues." She rubbed her eyes a little, clearing the wetness brimming there. She was smiling a little.</p><p> </p><p>"Thea, that was terribly dangerous," Aziraphale scolded. "I appreciate that you thought you were defending me but I have been dealing with Gabriel's slights for thousands of years. Why would you confront him like that when we were trying to acquire his help?!"</p><p> </p><p>Thea shrugged, dabbing at a sticky lock of hair with a napkin before pouting imploringly at Aziraphale (who caved immediately and miracled her clean). Crowley was starting to suspect she was still a little stoned off Heavenly fucking Peace.</p><p> </p><p>"So why are we keeping my lightning a secret?" Thea deflected.</p><p> </p><p>“I was wondering that myself,” Aziraphale fretted. Crowley finally took a sip of his tea to calm his nerves, but grimaced when the bitter plonk only made him feel worse. </p><p> </p><p>“We don’t know who we can trust here, right?” he growled, glaring at the tea until it turned into a smooth darjeeling. “Best to keep our cards close to the vest for now. May need that element of surprise, yeah?”</p><p> </p><p>“It would be quite the surprise,” Aziraphale nodded, his eyes crinkling at the memory of pain. Thea muttered another apology for electrocuting him, and the angel immediately launched into one of his “buck up” speeches. Crowley was suddenly so very much <em> done </em> with this day. He wanted a hot shower and some sleep. </p><p> </p><p>“Let’s head out,” he suggested, abruptly cutting off Aziraphale’s pep talk. “No one’s around right now. We can just zerp back to the flat. Less chance of getting followed if anyone is creeping about out there.”</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale nodded, and a moment later they were back in Thea’s flat. Now that he was upright, something jangled and Crowley emptied his pockets of spoons. Aziraphale had another seven in his jacket, and Thea had three. She shrugged apologetically, collected the spoons and dropped them in her sink. </p><p> </p><p>“Right, glad everyone made it back here, would love to stay and chat,” Crowley quipped, already making for the door. “But honestly, <em> Fuck </em> today!”</p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale wasn’t sure if he was welcome but he made up his mind, as he hurried into the lift after the sulking demon, that he wasn’t going to worry about it. He didn’t want to be alone, and he knew, somehow, Crowley didn’t either. The lift doors shut and Crowley started snickering. Aziraphale arched his brow at that.</p><p> </p><p>“She ketchuped Gabriel and called him a <em> ratfuck </em>,” Crowley laughed, and Aziraphale smiled ruefully and rolled his eyes. The demon was clearly jittery, all frayed nerves and cascading relief, and Aziraphale was right there with him. Today really hadn’t gone as he’d hoped, but for Aziraphale at least, the start of it had been when he took his frustration out on Crowley on Thea’s balcony. He did feel poorly about that.</p><p> </p><p>“I wanted to apologize for my sharp tongue earlier,” he offered. Crowley waved the comment away.</p><p> </p><p>“Nnaaah. S’fine,” Crowley drawled. “Had to be quick, but I know it caught you by surprise. I forgive—”</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale drew himself up, annoyed. “I wasn’t apologizing for being upset about what you pulled at lunch!”</p><p> </p><p>“Angel—”</p><p> </p><p>“We do not throw tables at the Ritz, Crowley!”</p><p> </p><p>“So next time I’ll just let myself get discorportated by a duke of hell, shall I?” Crowley sneered. “Nice and polite, that?”</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale didn’t dignify that snark with a response. There was a slight chance that Aziraphale wasn’t on the high ground here and he decided to change the subject before that became apparent. </p><p> </p><p>“I meant my rather snide comment on Thea’s balcony,” he demurred. “I shouldn’t have—”</p><p> </p><p>“Pffff, don’t,” Crowley snorted, throwing up a hand between them in a gesture for silence. “It’s forgotten. Hey, Let’s drink!” he grinned, flinging open his door and heading directly to the liquor cabinet.</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale hurried in front of him and made Crowley pull his saunter up short. </p><p> </p><p>“Actually, I was thinking we could do something else,” he murmured, summoning up a comfortable high backed armchair opposite the couch. It was a stylish mid-century affair with black leather and polished dark wood. Crowley was staring at it impassively, but shot a questioning look at Aziraphale when he ordered him to sit.</p><p> </p><p>“Why?” he argued, suspicious. “Got a perfectly good couch already.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, but it is going to be much more difficult for you to slouch in this seat,” Aziraphale smiled tightly. Why did Crowley insist on being contrary?</p><p> </p><p>“Seems a quality reason to choose the couch then, innit?” Crowley smiled back.</p><p> </p><p>“For heaven’s sake, Crowley. Sit in the damn chair!” Aziraphale snapped in exasperation, stalking into the plant room to retrieve the demon's plant mister. He adjusted the nozzle from mist to jet and brought it back to the sitting room. </p><p> </p><p>Crowley was in the chair, although he <em> had </em> found a way to sprawl over it, somewhat upside down with his black clad legs over the back. </p><p> </p><p>“Oh good Lord,” Aziraphale groaned, earning an impertinent grin from the demon. “Is it the serpent in you that makes you unable to use a chair properly?” He detoured to the kitchen to help himself to a glass of the Santorini Assyrtiko chilling in the refrigerator.  He sat himself neatly on the couch, the plant mister beside him, and smiled at Crowley’s noisy objection to the angel’s failure to fetch a glass for him.</p><p> </p><p>“Please sit properly, dear, so we can begin,” he told the demon, after a sip of his wine.</p><p> </p><p>“What are we 'beginning' exactly, Angel?” Crowley smirked, only managing to slide more upside down. Aziraphale lifted the mister in an exaggerated threat. Crowley’s eyes widened behind where his glasses were sliding off his face. “Wait, is that <em> holy water?” </em></p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale nearly dropped the mister at the accusation. “Is it— NO! Crowley, why on earth would I be threatening you with holy water?! “</p><p> </p><p>“Right,” Crowley looked relieved. “Just that I threatened Hastur earlier, saying I had holy water in that very mister and—”</p><p> </p><p>“You had holy water in here?!” Aziraphale <em> did </em> drop the mister then, his heart in his throat. “Crowley! You’re mad! This bloody thing <em> leaks </em>.”</p><p> </p><p>“Course it does. Cheapest shite mister on the market,” Crowley crowed. “It’s <em>distilled</em> <em>water</em>, Angel, relax. Honestly, though, the look on your face.”</p><p> </p><p>“Crowley,” Aziraphale growled, swiping the mister up again. “Sit. Properly. Now.”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley did, with a sigh of great sufferance, crossing his legs at the knee and resettling his glasses. He snapped to summon his own glass of wine, and Aziraphale snapped to vanish it.</p><p> </p><p>“Whyyyy?” the demon whined.</p><p> </p><p>“This is an exercise in control, Crowley. No alcohol for a start.”</p><p> </p><p>“I thought we agreed not to do this?” Crowley argued. Aziraphale sighed. He certainly hadn’t agreed to anything of the sort. He had every intention of seeing this through.</p><p> </p><p>“I told you I would help you and I mean to,” Aziraphale declared. Crowley looked squeamish, but the angel was expecting this. He’d known Crowley for thousands of years. Everytime the demon ventured any kind of emotional risk he’d immediately retreat. The resin had made things easier for Crowley, relaxed and buzzed, but also noticeably distracted and Aziraphale wanted to stay focused. Crowley groaned loudly and let his head thunk against the back of the chair.</p><p> </p><p>“You agreed to this,” he reminded the demon. “Have you changed your mind?”</p><p> </p><p>“No,” he grumbled. “But I did warn you that I wouldn’t make it easy.”</p><p> </p><p>“Will you at least try?”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley sighed then, looking away. “Not that it will matter. I’m always trying.”</p><p> </p><p>“I couldn’t agree more,” Aziraphale responded dryly. Crowley could be exceptionally <em> trying </em> and the angel was, frankly, glad for an excuse to finally call him on it. Crowley gave him a sour look.</p><p> </p><p>“All you need to do, dear, is stay in your seat until the exercise is finished,” Aziraphale continued. Crowley scoffed.</p><p> </p><p>“I assume you’re going to make doing so uncomfortable?” Crowley sulked, tapping his black fingernails on his arm rest. His raised foot was bouncing as well. He was already uncomfortable and fidgeting. It didn’t bode well for the success of the exercise, but then, it was the first time. Aziraphale could be patient.</p><p> </p><p>“You don’t tend to have any issues with control when you are comfortable, darling,” Aziraphale smiled. “But don’t fret too much. I promise you all we are going to do tonight is talk.”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley’s groan was now even louder than before and tinged in mock anguish. Aziraphale waited for the theatrics to subside, taking another sip of wine. Once Crowley gave his last impatient huff and fell silent Aziraphale addressed him again.</p><p> </p><p>“You told me you were constantly aware of anger simmering just below the surface. You likened it to hellfire, did you mean that literally?”</p><p> </p><p>“Are you worried I’m going to burn you, Angel?” Crowley snapped, insulted.</p><p> </p><p>“I wasn’t. Should I be?” Aziraphale volleyed back. </p><p> </p><p>“No,” Crowley grumbled. “I mean, if I’m really mad then, yeah...I might get a little...eeeuuhghh... ‘fired up’ as it were, but I’m not in danger of losing control of my <em> Hellfire </em>, Aziraphale.”</p><p> </p><p>“If it isn’t a product of your demonic nature, then what is causing this uncontrollable anger?”</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale had his suspicions. He’d been trying to puzzle this creature out for a long time, and the past eleven years had afforded him an unprecedented period of study. He took another sip of his wine, and then another. Sharing his theory with Crowley was going to be risky. The demon wasn’t going to like it. Better if he came around to it on his own.</p><p> </p><p>“Dunno,” Crowley shrugged lightly. “Demons aren't really a talk-it-out lot. More of a push-it-all-down-until-it-explodes-in-fun-and-interesting-ways sort, us.”</p><p> </p><p>“You must have some idea,” Aziraphale insisted, his voice somewhat strained.</p><p> </p><p>“Angel, isn’t it possible that this is just…” Crowley sighed, looking away. “Mnn...Maybe this is just what I am. I’m not meant to be safe, or to have...people depend on me. wasn’t created for any of <em> this </em>.”</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale swallowed his instinct to vehemently disagree. He watched Crowley silently. The demon frowned at Aziraphale’s refusal to answer, and as the silence stretched that frown turned sharp, teeth clenched in a snarl. He took the silence as agreement. As rejection. Aziraphale had always jumped to the demon's defense in the past. It hurt. It hurt Aziraphale not to comfort Crowley, but they wouldn’t get anywhere doing their same old dance around his anger. </p><p> </p><p>Of course, if Aziraphale refused to offer a respite from Crowley's angry self-exploration it was only a matter of time before the demon fled to lick his wounds.</p><p> </p><p>“Right, well,” Crowley propelled himself to his feet right on schedule. “Fuck this.”</p><p> </p><p>“Sit!” Aziraphale ordered and immediately let loose with the water bottle. Crowley squawked and flailed angrily, swearing loathsome obscenities but Aziraphale would not be deterred. Crowley spluttered and fell back into the seat and the torrent of spritzing ceased. Aziraphale smiled at him peacefully. Crowley dripped and glared.</p><p> </p><p>“There is a philosophy regarding anger,” Aziraphale stated calmly, “that suggests that anger is merely an expression of other deeper emotions, namely hurt, frustration, and fear.”</p><p> </p><p>“Pfff. I could wax on for an absolute <em> age </em> about things that frustrate me right now,” Crowley hissed.  “The greatest of which you’ve cornered me into letting live downstairs. None of this should be happening. It shouldn’t be our problem!”</p><p> </p><p>“But it is,” Aziraphale shrugged. “And now Thea is counting on us. On <em> you </em>.” Crowley hissed again and this time the sound was much less human. “I would add, considering what we’re up against, that she’s very fortunate that you’ve made this your problem.”</p><p> </p><p>“Clearly, very fortunate,” Crowley mocked. “I put the fear of Hell into her, Aziraphale.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes,” Aziraphale agreed. Crowley’s shoulders fell in millimetres, the defensive slouch of the wounded. “We cannot depend on Gabriel's assistance in keeping Beezlebub in line, Crowley. If we are to prepare for an attack by infernal forces then we need a demon. Especially a wily one.” Aziraphale smiled fondly. “And you are the wiliest.”</p><p> </p><p>“Flattery will get you everywhere, Angel,” Crowley smirked, cheering slightly from the praise. Aziraphale made note of that too as it lent evidence toward an entirely <em> different </em> theory.</p><p> </p><p>“Will it get me to the heart of your fears?” Azirphale asked, striking to the heart of it. “Because that’s what this is all about, isn’t it? You’re deeply afraid, and I’d very much like to know why?”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley was on his feet again. Aziraphale didn’t get a chance to raise the water bottle before it was belted out of his hand. Crowley was making his escape, hackles raised, wounded pride oozing resentment and malice as the demon made for the door. </p><p> </p><p>“Crowley, Please!” Aziraphale pleaded. Crowley paused, his hand on the doorknob. Aziraphale went to him, reached to touch him and he flinched, hissing. “Darling, please,” he whispered. “Don’t walk away. Just tell me. What is it?” The demon glanced at him, the anger faltering, and for a moment he saw the wide topaz eyes behind the dark lenses.</p><p> </p><p>“You already know, Angel,” Crowley muttered angrily. "We've been over this already and it doesn't get easier and it doesn't get better."</p><p> </p><p>"It <em> will </em> though, my dear," Aziraphale insisted. He took Crowley's hand but the demon yanked it away. "Darling, it's all right. I know you're struggling and this is nothing that can't be undone. Please just come back and sit down."</p><p> </p><p>"This isn't going to work, Angel," Crowley whispered, defeated. Aziraphale winced, feeling the demon's grief and realizing Crowley was referring to more than the exercise. That was expected as well. Emotional hermit crab. That didn't mean that Crowley's lack of faith didn't still hurt though.</p><p> </p><p>"You're being silly now," Aziraphale sniffed, stepping between Crowley and the exit. "Come sit down."</p><p> </p><p>Crowley let himself be led back to the sitting room, his posture uncharacteristically tense. Aziraphale steered him to the couch instead of the chair this time and cuddled in beside him. Crowley's slender frame had no yield to it. He was girding himself.</p><p> </p><p>"You still believe that I will abandon you?" Aziraphale asked, hurt. He just didn't understand how Crowley could still think such a thing.</p><p> </p><p>"You will," Crowley sighed. "I know you don't want to hear that, and maybe you don't believe it, but <em> someday… </em> " he shook himself a little and Aziraphale felt a long arm snake over his shoulder, as Crowley adopted his lopsided smile. "but we're here <em> now </em>. Might as well enjoy it. No reason for me to be maudlin, you're right."</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale frowned. He hadn't suggested anything of the sort, and as little as he enjoyed seeing Crowley hurting, neither did he enjoy the notion that Crowley was biding his time until Aziraphale betrayed him. And it would be betrayal, far as the angel was concerned. He and Crowley were a unit, their own side. He'd protect that with his life.</p><p> </p><p>"What will it take to convince you that I love you?" Aziraphale demanded, frustrated. Crowley sighed again, taking his arm back from Aziraphale's shoulders.</p><p> </p><p>"Eeeuuughhnn Nothing, Angel," he placated, crossing his legs and turning away ever so slightly. "I <em> know </em> you love me. That isn't the problem. I'm not trying to insult you, Aziraphale."</p><p> </p><p>"But you are!" the angel exclaimed. "I have chosen you, Crowley, and you believe I mean to throw you away!"</p><p> </p><p>"I didn't say that!" Crowley protested. "I don't think you <em> mean </em> to at all. But you can't know what’s going to happen. Maybe it won't be your choice! Or maybe you'll change. Or I will. How can there be a happily ever after for us when that is a literal eternity? One way or another, Angel, you will leave me. That's just how it goes."</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale groaned and rubbed his temples. </p><p> </p><p>"That's how it's <em> gone, </em>you mean," he corrected. "If I am unable to predict the future, as you've pointed out, then you are certainly similarly in the dark."</p><p> </p><p>"It's an educated guess," Crowley admitted. "But at least I'm being logical."</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale bristled. "Logical! It's logical to assume I will abandon you? Why? Because you are a demon? Because you are chaotic and angry and will inevitably force my hand? That's <em> logical </em>?"</p><p> </p><p>Crowley smirked and Aziraphale had his slapping urge again.</p><p> </p><p>"Because I'm not the only one who's angry, Angel." Crowley teased. "And yeah, that forcing your hand bit does seem<em> on brand </em> for me."</p><p> </p><p>"You <em> do </em> love self-sabotage," Aziraphale grumbled. "And I'm not angry."</p><p> </p><p>Crowley rolled his eyes. "Angel, you are <em> incredibly </em> angry and have been for a long time. I can sense rage, remember? Oh, sure you keep a tight lid on it. I'm impressed, really. Very excellent control.  But the anger's there just the same."</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale felt himself blush. That couldn't be true. Could it? Crowley was projecting, that's all. He was trying to make this about Aziraphale instead of dealing with his own issues. Well, demons weren't the only ones who could sense things.</p><p> </p><p>"Are you absolutely certain that you'd like to bring up the emotions we are capable of sensing in the other?" Aziraphale threatened. "Because I am more than ready."</p><p> </p><p>That made Crowley look at him and pause, a point of victory for Aziraphale. The demon was thinking, idly scratching his chin.</p><p> </p><p>"Mmn nk...Yeah, okay," Crowley murmured, confusing Aziraphale and sending him into a bit of panic. "Go ahead, Angel. What do you sense?"</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale took a moment to clear his throat. This wasn't at all what he expected. How dare Crowley call his bluff like this!</p><p> </p><p>"I assure you dear, I am not bluffing."</p><p> </p><p>"Course not," Crowley nodded seriously. "So go ahead."</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale swallowed hard, his heart drumming in his chest. "You profess to be a creature of evil, incapable of decency," he began slowly, waiting for the demon to call a stop to this. Crowley watched him intently. Aziraphale saw him tremble slightly, but he stayed silent. Was he truly so stubborn? Well, fine. Aziraphale would say it then.</p><p> </p><p>"You say you're not good, Crowley. But you are — "</p><p> </p><p>"Pffff Thass conjecture, innit," Crowley objected, waving his hand dismissively, but Aziraphale heard his little delighted moan too. "You don't sense <em> goodness </em> , Angel. Tell me what you <em> sense </em>."</p><p> </p><p>"<em> Love </em> , you pillock," Aziraphale snapped. "For a dastardly denizen of the pits you sure have a grand abundance of <em> love </em>."</p><p> </p><p>"I <em> am </em> a denizen of the pits, Angel," Crowley smirked. "You're not going to tell me I haven't really been a demon this whole time."</p><p> </p><p>“You <em> love </em>, Crowley," Aziraphale replied, seriously. "You're unlike any demon I've ever heard of. And I do believe that you're unique."</p><p> </p><p>Crowley seemed surprised by that. Aziraphale shook his head sadly.</p><p> </p><p>"Perhaps you're right about me being angry," he admitted. "But I am not necessarily angry with <em> you. </em>" Crowley arched a brow at that and his smirk grew. Aziraphale chuckled and poked him in the ribs. "Not exclusively anyway," he added. "Angels don't make time for anger, Crowley, unless it is divine wrath and that is something that comes from...higher up, shall we say. It isn't a feeling I'm comfortable with, to be honest, but I have control of my emotions. I won't let you use my feelings to distract me from working through yours."</p><p> </p><p>Crowley snorted.</p><p> </p><p>"If I can't ignore my bloody uncomfortable feelings why do you get to?"</p><p> </p><p>"The short answer is that I've never slammed anyone into a wall or dragged them around by their hair," Aziraphale growled.</p><p> </p><p>Crowley's smirk grew and the demon shifted forward, leaning in close to the angel. "Ehhnn Maybe you ssshould."</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale narrowed his eyes, and a thrum of excitement and frustration began to build in his core. Crowley looked smug, </p><p> </p><p>"Would you like that, Crowley?" he demanded, his voice sounding lower, darker in his ears. "Would you like me to manhandle you and toss you about?"</p><p> </p><p>Crowley whined as if in pain and then dropped his head, shaking it with a rueful laugh. “Ng erm heh. Jesus, Angel, you have no bloody idea."</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale blinked. “Pardon?"</p><p> </p><p>Crowley backed away to his side of the couch with an embarrassed laugh. "Ah, fuck it. While we're being so bloody honest...errrmm…" he was blushing again, looking away. "Remember when we first started that hunt game and you were being a complete arse about it?" he grinned and Aziraphale snorted at the slight. "Then for whatever reason you started to take it seriously and used that iron strength of yours, pinned me against the wall in the lobby, scooped me up like I weighed nothing? Remember?"</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale nodded, confused. "And you miracled yourself free," he added. That still stung for some reason.</p><p> </p><p>Crowley's laugh sounded strained. "Yeah, I did, Angel, because I was in very real danger of having a fucking orgasm in my best friend's arms and I definitely didn't have the mental fortitude to handle that!"</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale stared at him, processing that slowly. "You were aroused?"</p><p> </p><p>"Oh, for fuck’s sake," he groaned. "Aziraphale, you are very much stronger than me and it makes me so bloody hot I can't see straight. I don't think I can be clearer than that. So yeah, you pushing me into a wall or pulling me by the hair? Not exactly a great <em> threat </em>."</p><p> </p><p>"Crowley, look at me," Aziraphale requested, his voice soft. Crowley sighed but he turned around to face Aziraphale and didn't fuss when the angel took the glasses off to see his wide eyes. </p><p> </p><p>"I need to know if you are being serious about what you just said," Aziraphale told him, taking his hands and holding them. Without his glasses, Crowley's eyes telegraphed every emotion. Fear, embarrassment, arousal, fear again. </p><p> </p><p>"Yeah," he whispered. "It sort of took me by surprise. That week was just constant erections. I really fucking love that game."</p><p> </p><p>"I do as well," Aziraphale admitted. "The very idea of pursuing you, catching you and holding you down while you — " Aziraphale bit his lip to stop talking and Crowley whimpered slightly and suddenly the flat was entirely too warm. "Goodness! So this morning when I carried you into the bedroom and you — "</p><p> </p><p>“Ngk. Er.” Crowley winced, completely pink with embarrassment and he ran his hand through his hair sheepishly. "Yyeeaahh, It does things to me."</p><p> </p><p>"We need to discuss this further," Aziraphale resolved. "And in greater detail. It could be dangerous and I'd never forgive myself if I hurt you."</p><p> </p><p>"I <em> want </em> you to hurt me," Crowley purred.</p><p> </p><p>"You don't," Aziraphale corrected kindly. "Not really." </p><p> </p><p>Crowley's smirk softened into a gentle smile. "Not really," he agreed. “Except when I do.”</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale melted at that smile. "Oh, my dear," he sighed.</p><p> </p><p>"Mmm?" </p><p> </p><p>"I just adore you so," he gushed. Crowley flushed and looked away.</p><p> </p><p>"Shaddup," he groaned.</p><p> </p><p>"I do," Aziraphale cooed, scootching closer. "Even if you do think I'm of such little integrity that I'll abandon you at the first hint of your infernal nature."</p><p> </p><p>Crowley barked a laugh. "Ohoho, oh, I see. Yes, I'm terribly sorry for suggesting that there could be a limit to how much evil you might be willing to accept in your bed."</p><p> </p><p>"You've done evil things, Crowley, but I'm not sure you've ever <em> been </em> evil once," Aziraphale murmured, pressing his lips to Crowley's long neck. He smiled as the demon shivered under his touch, tilting his head to offer more flesh for his mouth. Aziraphale took the offering with thanks, sucking a dark mark into the skin as Crowley writhed and made a shrill sound of pleasure.</p><p> </p><p>"What <em> will </em> you do then?" he gasped, relaxing into the back of the couch. "If you say you won't leave me, what <em> would </em> you do if I really turned evil? If something happened to make me truly dangerous?"</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale hummed against his neck. It <em> was </em> a fair question, although not one the angel found particularly pressing at the moment. "Hmm, well, as you said, I'm quite a bit stronger than you," he kissed his way along Crowley's jaw toward his chin. "So I suppose I'd lock you in a kitty carrier for however many centuries it took you to stop being a prat."</p><p> </p><p>Crowley laughed, and it was a real laugh. The rare beautiful one that shook off the layers of dust and sorrow and guilt. Aziraphale grinned up at him, falling in love all over again. Crowley chuckled again, nuzzling into the angel's hair.</p><p> </p><p>"Promise?"</p><p> </p><p>"I do. I'll reinforce the carrier myself."</p><p> </p><p>Crowley sighed and the sound was heavy with something like relief as he leaned in to brush the angel's lips with his own. Aziraphale returned the kiss with enthusiasm, gathering the silly demon in his arms and parting Crowley's lips with his tongue. The kiss deepened, the pace languid and gentle.</p><p> </p><p>"I don't see this eventuality coming to fruition anytime soon though," Aziraphale whispered into Crowley's ear before tracing the shell with his lips. "Not when you're as sweet and good as you are now."</p><p> </p><p>Crowley groaned, and his hips twitched ever so slightly as the intensity of the kiss increased. "That's it, my dear," Aziraphale sighed between kisses. "You're lovely, Crowley. You feel so wonderful in my arms."</p><p> </p><p>Crowley whimpered, and Aziraphale grinned as one theory was confirmed. Combined with Crowley's little confession earlier and suddenly Aziraphale had a great deal of sexual fodder.</p><p> </p><p>He shifted suddenly, lifting Crowley onto his lap, and then into his arms as he stood from the couch. The demon's fingers latched onto his shoulders to steady himself, uttering a loud "ngk!" of surprise at the sudden displacement, but he grinned as Aziraphale carried him to the bedroom.</p><p> </p><p>This morning had been a blur of passion and pleasure but tonight Aziraphale was focused, spurred on by a sense of dedication that bordered on holy. It was a powerful and gentling feeling that he’d been missing for a very long time. It was something he thought he’d lost in the Flood. He was an angel in love, and it felt like a worthy substitute for Faith.</p><p> </p><p>He laid Crowley out on the dark blankets and sealed the delicious lips with his, nipping them pink as he skillfully divorced the demon from his vestments. He pressed kisses soft and deep, holding Crowley down with nothing but his will. A slender hand cupped the angel’s cheek, the other running through his curls as lips and tongues, breath and desire, married unhurried and absolute. Each kiss became a sacrament, a devotion. Every sigh was a testament. </p><p> </p><p>And Crowley opened for him, yielding to the press of his still-clothed body, leaning into the velvet tenderness of the angel’s adoration. Aziraphale swallowed the demon’s soft moan with another full brush of tongue. His right hand swept across the narrow chest to lay over the rabbit-quick heartbeat. His ring, a halo of gold around his little finger, brushed against the firm jut of a nipple and Crowley gasped into his mouth, arching against his chest, pressing into his waistcoat and finally opening amber eyes. His pupils were large, so nearly round in the halflight of the bedroom.</p><p> </p><p>“Angel,” he whispered, trembling a little. “You’re...this is…”</p><p> </p><p>“Is it all right, my dear?” Aziraphale whispered back. “Am I hurting you?”</p><p> </p><p>The ring made another pass over yielding flesh, and Crowley’s mouth fell open in a silent cry. </p><p> </p><p>“I can feel it,” Crowley gasped, tears welling in his eyes. “I’m not supposed to feel this!”</p><p> </p><p>“I can stop,” Aziraphale assured him. “Tell me if I should.” He pressed his face into Crowley’s neck, so he wouldn’t see his eyes begging him not to. </p><p> </p><p>“You should take off your fucking clothes if you’re going to act like this, you heretic,” Crowley groaned. “If you’re going to shine bloody Divinity on me the least you could do is take your damn bowtie off.”</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale chuckled. “Divinity,” he scoffed, but he did tug his tie loose. “Hardly <em> that </em> , my dear. I’m afraid it might sting quite a bit if I were to touch you with actual Grace.” 'Sting' was an understatement. He wouldn’t be risking <em> that </em>.</p><p> </p><p>“Feels like it to me,” Crowley groaned, writhing prettily under his palm and prompting the angel to let it drift lower, skirting blunt nails lightly over his navel before coming to rest atop the angular jut of hip bone. Aziraphale lowered his head, smiling against the demon’s parted lips before he resumed another deep exploration of that sweet mouth.</p><p> </p><p>Poor starved creature, to have gone so long without feeling love, really <em> feeling </em> love, to mistake it for Divinity.</p><p> </p><p>Crowley relaxed into the sweet press and pull of lips as Aziraphale dragged his hand lower still, tracing lightly around the hard knee before sweeping back, teasing along the inside of a warm thigh and hooking his thumb under the base of Crowley’s hard length. </p><p> </p><p>“Angel, finally, fuck!” the demon gasped against his lips, so Aziraphale wrapped his fingers firmly around the weeping cock and pumped him slowly. Crowley’s mouth fell open wide under his kiss and the moan was worth the wait. Crowley’s breath was laboured, his kisses clumsy, so Aziraphale propped himself up higher, dragging his chest over the demon’s so he could suck kisses into the long throat, and nuzzle into the hot pulse of heartbeat.</p><p> </p><p>Crowley was moving now, one hand gripping the blanket while the other grabbed the pillow under his own head as if to steady himself. His spine rose and fell in counterpoint to Aziraphale’s movements as the angel continued to attribute reverent honour and homage to the demon. He kept his pace slow, his grip firm, listening to Crowley’s breathy groans as he pulled him closer to the denouement of Aziraphale’s act of worship. He was so engrossed in his adoration that he was truly unsure how he felt when the demon suddenly forced himself to sitting and snapped, miracling the rest of Aziraphale’s kit to the other side of the room.</p><p> </p><p>“Crowley?” Aziraphale started to ask him if he was all right, if he’d done something wrong but he fell silent when he was gripped tightly by the shoulders as the demon’s head fell back with a low moan. The act of sitting up had thrust Crowley’s hips hard into Aziraphale and only tightened the angel’s grip. Aziraphale paused, uncertain. The removal of his clothing suggested one thing, the sudden seizing hold suggested another.</p><p> </p><p>“It's all right, dear,” he offered, softly. “Tell me what you need.” Crowley rolled his head forward again, catching his breath, and when he opened his eyes again they were deep pools of gold and onyx, and suddenly Aziraphale was the one catching his breath.</p><p> </p><p>“Angel,” Crowley choked. “Aziraphale, I love you.”</p><p> </p><p>And Aziraphale knew this already, of course he did. He was primed since his creation to sense love in all its permutations and Crowley had shown him in his way dozens of times, too. It was one thing to know it and another thing entirely to <em> hear </em> it, for Crowley to <em> say </em> it. Great white wings unfurled, filling the room with a soft pulse of silver light and the gentle rustle of feathers.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh,” Aziraphale giggled at himself, “Apologies. I suppose I was a bit...taken off guard, my dear.”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley grinned and unfurled his own wings in answer. Ebony feathers brushed against snowy white and Aziraphale pulled Crowley flush to his chest.</p><p> </p><p>“I adore you, my love,” he rejoiced against the demon’s copper hair. “Please, dear. Say it again.”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley laughed. “I love you, you git,” he grinned. “But if you’re going to get a big head about it I’ll just go back to keeping that to myself.”</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale sighed, savouring the admission as well as the affectionate teasing. He opened his eyes and stared into Crowley’s, unabashedly happy. And Crowley smiled back at him and looked truly soft for the first time. They fell back into bed, surrounded by love and feathers, and a rapture so overwhelmingly joyous it might as well have been Divine Ecstasy.</p><p><br/>
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  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Borderline sacrilegious sex scenes are so fun to write.</p><p>September sucks so much for me, dear readers. Like weirdo PTSD depression levels of suck. I’ve gotten ahead in these chapters and should remember to post on time, but if I slip up please feel free to give me a gentle nudge to remind me. I am living off your comments, so please apply them liberally below. Much obliged. Good luck to anyone starting school soon. Sorry these chapters aren't going to get shorter. Stay safe and healthy, Lovelies.</p>
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<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Hellfire</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Aziraphale and Crowley try to navigate the ... complexities of their new relationship, which leads to the angel feeling out of his depth compared to the much more experienced demon. </p><p>Crowley has been making progress on his issues, or so he believes, and is waiting for Aziraphale to catch up and deal with his anger issues. If the angel won’t open up on his own, Crowley’s up to the task of provoking said anger instead. </p><p>Thea continues to struggle with her abilities and the Trio stumble upon a new piece of the puzzle when they introduce the girl to Hellfire.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Tags have been updated. Please be aware that this chapter has a scene that contains kin negotiation and it is awkward. There are elements of kink shaming, discussion of sex with an unconscious partner, implied off screen drug use.</p><p>A later scene includes rough, angry, but consensual kitchen sex, and some destruction of priceless works of art as well as some eventual confinement. Please use your discretion if you find these topics potentially distressing.</p><p>Beta’d by the lovely PinkPenguinParade</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
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  <em> A kick to the teeth is good for some </em>
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  <em> A kiss with a fist is better than none. </em>
</p><p> </p><p><span class="u"> <em> A kiss With A Fist </em> </span> <em> by Florence + The Machine </em></p><p>
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</p><p>"Hmm" Aziraphale heard someone hum pleasantly. His eyelids were heavy with sleep and the hum came again before he realized the sound was coming from his own throat.</p><p> </p><p>Warm lips were pressing gentle kisses along his bare shoulder and into his neck. Aziraphale smiled as he felt long fingers slide over his chest as the lips parted against his skin to let a long thick tongue lick over his pulse point.</p><p> </p><p>"Again?" Aziraphale murmured, rolling onto his back to better see the red-headed menace. </p><p> </p><p>"Yes, again," Crowley chuckled against his neck. "Always again," he added, trailing maddening kisses down the angel's chest and belly.</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale had always believed <em> he </em>was the insatiable one (and he was, Crowley's touches were definitely waking certain parts of his body ahead of others. He slid his hand through silky hair and guided the demon lower.)</p><p> </p><p>The last time Aziraphale had collapsed onto the rucked up sheets, gasping his surrender, he'd been pleased to see Crowley was at least equally demolished. He'd assumed the demon would be sleeping for a while but evidently Crowley didn't need more than a few hours between bouts of furious lovemaking. Now his ginger head bobbed slowly between Aziraphale's hips, pulling long moans from the angel until he came with a quiet grunt.</p><p> </p><p>"Good morning," he groaned, shooting a grin at the smug demon licking his mischievous lips. </p><p> </p><p>"Morning," Crowley purred, rolling out of bed. "Sleep well, Angel?"</p><p> </p><p>"I did, thank you," Aziraphale smirked back at the fiend. Even an angel who typically avoided sleep was bound to give in to slumber after, what was it, round eight? Nine? "And now I'm more than a little hungry. Might I make you some breakfast?"</p><p> </p><p>"I already ate," Crowley smacked his lips loudly making Aziraphale blush. "Help yourself to the kitchen though, Angel. I'm gonna pop into the shower. I <em> reek </em> of sex."</p><p> </p><p>"A miracle would cure that just as well," Aziraphale reminded him with a laugh. </p><p> </p><p>"A miracle doesn't have steam and bloody fabulous water pressure," Crowley countered, stretching appealingly as he padded into his en suite bathroom. Aziraphale could hear the demon humming to himself as he waited for the water to warm up and smiled. </p><p> </p><p><em> He's always so darling after a tumble in the sheets, </em> he thought, heaving himself out of said sheets with great effort. A couple quick miracles cleaned himself and the bed, then he expended a third to summon a fresh outfit for the day. He dressed quickly, half planning his breakfast, half planning today’s lessons, when he caught the woody scent of Crowley’s body wash wafting from the other room. Suddenly his mind was purged of any thoughts other than the memory of inhaling that scent with his nose pressed behind Crowley’s ear. </p><p> </p><p>“Kitchen,” he reminded himself, as if snapping out of a trance, and hurried out of reach of the perfumed steam. The memory of Crowley’s easy smile followed him as he pulled various items from the refrigerator to make a decent fry up. Aziraphale really did like Crowley’s kitchen. There was more counter space than what he had to work with above the shop and the state of the art oven and stove top were a dream come true for a foodie angel. Of course, he <em> could </em> miracle one back at his, but it wouldn’t be the same. </p><p> </p><p>The bacon was sizzling, and coffee was brewing when Crowley finally came out of the bedroom wearing his jeans, but carrying his top. </p><p> </p><p>“Look at this!” the demon scolded, pointing to a sizable red mark over his collarbone with mock outrage. Aziraphale wasn’t surprised it was still there. He’d spent quite some time creating it, enjoying the high squeals it produced. That was somewhere between round five and six. “You fuck like a bloody neanderthal.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not sure how you’d know, seeing as they never actually existed,” Aziraphale smirked, but he cleared the mark from Crowley’s chest with a wave. The demon’s golden eyes narrowed at that and his lips pursed in a pout as he pulled his tee shirt on. </p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale returned his attention to the tomatoes and mushrooms in the pan, but he closed his eyes with a sigh when he felt Crowley wrap his arms around his waist. His hair was still damp from the shower and smelled strongly of the same woody scent as the demon hooked his chin over his shoulder before nicking a piece of bacon directly from the frying pan.</p><p> </p><p>“Didn’t you say you scalded your hand the other day?” Aziraphale demanded, aghast as Crowley bit into the blistering meat and licked the grease from his fingers. </p><p> </p><p>“Wasn’t expecting it,” Crowley shrugged, then stole a mushroom from the other pan just to show off. "Human corporation mostly runs on autopilot so it will burn if I'm not paying attention." </p><p> </p><p><em> Or if you're not the most stubborn and beautifully imaginative creature in existence </em>, Aziraphale thought, remembering how Crowley arrived at the airbase in a vaguely Bentley shaped inferno that he later learned had discorportated a (supposedly) more powerful demon. There were clearly scores of secrets to Crowley and Aziraphale wanted to learn them all. Right now, however, he wanted Crowley to stop stirring the veg with his finger. How unsanitary.</p><p> </p><p>"Besides, a little skin searing heat from the hottest stove top is still going to feel like a warm hug compared to the fires that consumed me Below," Crowley added light-heartedly, snatching up a tomato and then flinching back in alarm at Aziraphale's devastated cry.</p><p> </p><p>"What!?" the demon exclaimed, yellow eyes wide with concern. "Oh! oh...sorry, Angel," he smiled. "A bit of demonic humour, that's all."</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale snapped, turning off the stove top and pulled Crowley into his arms as if somehow he could protect the serpent from everything already done. How could She have allowed Crowley to suffer so? How had <em> he </em> ignored that question, even as it burned in him for centuries, continuing to follow Heaven so blindly.</p><p> </p><p>"Don't fuss about it, Angel" Crowley murmured into his hair. "Shouldn't have said that, M'sorry. It's fine now. M'fine. See?" Aziraphale let the demon lift his chin so he could look up into those lovely serpent eyes. Crowley's smile was dashing as always, but uncomplicated in a way that was wonderfully new. "Nothing bothering me this morning that a cup of coffee can't fix," Crowley assured him. </p><p> </p><p>He pressed a kiss to Aziraphale's cheek before stepping out of the circle of the angel's arms to fetch a mug. Aziraphale lightly touched his cheek, blushing. How silly that a little peck would warm his heart so after everything else they've done so recently.</p><p> </p><p>He watched Crowley pour himself a cup and sip it, leaning against the counter. He didn't realize he'd been staring until Crowley tipped him a grin and a wink, so he made himself break off to fix a plate, sit at the table, and eat. The first bite of tomato and egg had him ravenous again. Crowley joined him at the table with his steaming mug and bumped his foot with his under the table companionably. </p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale let the savoury flavours comfort and revive him. Food always had a particularly strong restorative power for the angel. Crowley had always seemed to find that in sleep, but judging by the easy smile and relaxed gestures, sex seemed an even more potent restorative. That was a theory worth pursuing, and if true...well, the notion that he might be able to help heal Crowley in some small way, and through lovemaking no less, would go a ways to restoring Aziraphale's Faith in God.</p><p> </p><p>"Would it be all right if we discussed what you said last night?" he asked the demon once his meal was done. He dabbed his lips with a napkin and smiled at Crowley's expression of confusion, eyes scrunched, focused on the middle distance with a very crooked frown of consternation. </p><p> </p><p>"Yeah, I'm gonna need more information than that, Angel," he replied. "Seemed we discussed a lot last night."</p><p> </p><p>"I'm specifically referring to what you told me about your reaction to my superior physical strength," Aziraphale offered, helpfully. Crowley's bemused expression morphed into an amused leer.</p><p> </p><p>"Not sure what else there is to say, but sure."</p><p> </p><p>"Well,” Aziraphale started, then paused, feeling himself blush. He wasn’t exactly certain how to discuss this. He knew well enough that it <em> must </em> be carefully discussed but he was suddenly inextricably struck mute. </p><p> </p><p>It surely wasn’t right to overpower Crowley. He loved the demon and he’d clearly been hurt far too much already. However, Crowley had been quite clear that he found the prospect more than desirable and shouldn’t Aziraphale trust that he knew his desires better than the angel would? Still, it would show a considerable lack of control on Aziraphale’s part to give in to the base need he felt to run the creature down and have at him like a wild beast in rut...but if they both wanted it then where was the harm? Except that it wasn’t done, wasn’t proper. It wouldn’t be making <em> love— </em> </p><p> </p><p>“Angel?”</p><p> </p><p>“Sorry. Embroiled in an ethical debate over here. I’ll be with you shortly,” Aziraphale grumbled, greatly annoyed with himself. </p><p> </p><p>“Would it help with your debate if I reminded you that we have already extensively discussed the use of safewords and check ins?” Crowley smiled, resting on his elbow, chin in his hand. “What exactly is the problem?”</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale sighed, “Well...I mean… it isn’t exactly romantic…”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley snorted and leaned back in his seat. Aziraphale looked up at him in concern, clocking the familiar body language. Gaze averted to the side, increased physical distance. He attempted to clarify but Crowley cut him off.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s <em> fucking </em>, angel,” he snarked defensively. “And it feels good. What’s the bloody problem?” </p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale tried very hard not to recoil at the ugly vernacular. It certainly wasn’t a word he’d choose for what they’d experienced together. Obviously Crowley had a different sense of things, due to greater experience, no doubt. <em> That </em> made the angel's cheeks burn, picturing Crowley with various humans over the ages. His demon, kiss-bruised lips parted in a silent cry while entwined with someone else. </p><p> </p><p>Jealousy was unbecoming though, and hypocritical besides. Aziraphale had participated in sexual congress in the past as well, and found it quite thrilling, although he’d only ever let himself climax with Crowley. It hadn’t felt right before. Of course, that had been a personal choice he couldn't hold the demon to so he had no cause to be feeling so tetchy about it. </p><p> </p><p>And yet...</p><p> </p><p>"Did you lie with them for work?" he asked, imperiously. Crowley looked wary, confused by the non sequitur. "You <em> obviously </em> are speaking from a place of experience," Aziraphale added. Crowley rolled his eyes and the angel's anger flared, quickly tamped down again. This was <em> fine. </em> </p><p> </p><p>"You must have a fair sense then of what you like and what you don’t?"</p><p> </p><p>"Is this just a circuitous way of asking me about my preferences?" Crowley smirked. His spine still seemed tense, his eyes wary even as he affected his temptation act. "You should know there is very little I wouldn’t do for you. Or let you do to me."</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale's breath caught at that and he smiled. “Let’s start there, then. What <em> wouldn’t </em>you do?”</p><p> </p><p>“Zero interest in pet play or any bodily eliminations that aren’t spit or spunk. That’s a hard pass for me,” Crowley replied immediately. “And I don’t like blood. Reminds me of shite I’d sooner forget.”</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale wasn’t expecting such a definitive list, and he was a little surprised by the last part given Crowley’s heartbreaking fantasy. “So the whipping you imagined me giving you before didn’t break skin?” Aziraphale had seen floggings in the past. They were brutal and horrible and very bloody.</p><p> </p><p>Crowley frowned, his eyes wary again. He looked tired and Aziraphale regretted his question. “There's a reason I said that fantasy wasn’t something I really wanted, but no...whipping doesn’t <em> have </em>to break skin. Not the way I like it, anyway.”</p><p> </p><p>That warranted further research, but Aziraphale was concerned about derailing the conversation now that they were discussing what he’d hoped to. “Go on,” he urged, gently. Crowley seemed to think for a few minutes, then shrugged. “Oh, There must be more.”</p><p> </p><p>“What about you, Angel?” Crowley smirked. “What naughty little kinks do you have?”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not sure yet, to be honest,” he answered seriously, blushing a little. “I can say I’m on the same page as you about what you’ve mentioned so far, though.”</p><p> </p><p>“Good. For everything else there are the colours and the safe word,” Crowley beamed, bouncing in his chair a bit, clearly excited. </p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale could see how using colours and the safeword could simplify matters while in the act, but he knew enough that there were situations when someone mightn’t be able to articulate them. He pointed that out to Crowley, ever the wet blanket. “For example, have you ever been bound and gagged?” he asked.  Crowley’s pupils dilated “Oh,” Aziraphale laughed a little without meaning to. “You like that too, I see.”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley sat back in the chair and ran a hand through his red hair, blushing. “Angel…” He cleared his throat, and started again. “That… <em>level</em> of bondage — s’not <em>usually</em> a spontaneous thing. I think we can be mature enough to discuss our limits beforehand. There are ways of communicating warnings that aren’t verbal.”</p><p> </p><p>That made Aziraphale feel immensely better. Of course they could go over those details when the time came, perhaps even draw up a contract of sorts. Aziraphale wiggled happily at the thought of drafting that document. He thought about some of the terms that could be included and felt himself flush, uncomfortably hot. Crowley snickered across the table and Aziraphale shot him a sour look, but he knew there was no heat in it.</p><p>
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</p><p>“You’re quite right, of course,” Aziraphale admitted.  “The only way one could run afoul of the safe word would be if a partner were unconscious and I would never think of it.”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley shrugged again, waving a dismissive hand. “Wotta you mean? Like if I was <em> hurt </em> or if I was <em> asleep? </em> Cause if I was just asleep then…” he blushed again. “If you <em> wanted to </em> I’d be fine with it.”</p><p> </p><p>“Absolutely not!” Aziraphale exclaimed, horrified. Crowley immediately looked away, shrugging again, completely nonchalant. It spoke volumes to Aziraphale though, who was doubly appalled that the demon would act <em> injured </em> by his refusal to assault him in his sleep! “You would want me to... <em> use </em> you like that? When you were sleeping?”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley rolled his eyes again, and Aziraphale’s anger jumped in intensity at the disdain. “It’s fine, Aziraphale,” the demon sighed. “Nevermind. What’s your next question?”</p><p> </p><p>“Has someone done that to you?” Aziraphale demanded.</p><p> </p><p>“Next question!” Crowley insisted, glaring now.</p><p> </p><p>“That’s my next question, Crowley.”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley’s eyes narrowed and he pushed away from the table angrily. Aziraphale readied himself to block his escape but the demon only snatched up his coffee cup and stomped into the kitchen. The angel crossed his arms in annoyance and watched as Crowley poured himself more coffee. He tinkered in one of the drawers and pulled out another blasted pair of glasses. Freshly armoured and supplied with caffeine Crowley returned to the table and smirked at Aziraphale in open challenge. “If you really want to know, Angel, then yeah. Absolutely <em> have </em> done. A few times in fact.”</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale gasped, He <em> had </em> to be lying to get a rise out of him. Crowley was incorrigible. Why couldn’t he take this seriously! Aziraphale had serious questions!</p><p> </p><p>“Pft. You’re such a prude,” Crowley mocked him. “I told you I was fine with it. Obviously you’re <em> not </em>. I won’t ask you to do something you don’t want to do, so can we please change the subject?”</p><p> </p><p>“I just...how could…” Aziraphale felt completely lost. Crowley groaned.</p><p> </p><p>“Ok, so we’re still talking about this,” he growled. “Fine. Last time was probably 1983. This bloke picked me up after a job I’d done in LA. He was a rich bugger too, and I was drunk off my arse and he smelled good so I figured <em>why</em> <em>not?</em> You shoulda seen the size of his mansion! Good booze, better drugs. Anyway, I fell asleep there. I wasn’t planning on it, but the bed was fucking fantastic and the fucking had been pretty amazing too.” </p><p> </p><p>Crowley paused to smirk at Aziraphale who glared back trying very hard not to look jealous. The chuffed look on the demon’s face suggested he’d failed.</p><p> </p><p>“That bastard's cock nearly put me in a <em> coma </em> ,” Crowley leered while Aziraphale spluttered indignantly. “Don’t think I would have woken up if there was an earthquake. I <em> did </em> wake up a little though when he started slipping back in a few hours later and had his way with me again, but like I said, the bed was really comfortable so I just went back to sleep.”</p><p> </p><p>“Couldn’t have been <em> that </em>good a lover if you slept through it,” Aziraphale muttered, deeply annoyed and still a little suspicious the whole story was made up.</p><p> </p><p>“It didn’t make me come, but I still liked it, Aziraphale,” Crowley answered, and he sounded serious. “I enjoyed it a lot actually. It’s hard to explain. It’s relaxing and warm and I don’t have to do anything but feel.”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley’s cheeks had gone pink again, and even with the glasses he seemed vulnerable. Aziraphale tried to consider what he was saying fairly. The lack of explicit consent bothered the angel, but Crowley had always had such little control over his interactions with others. Any gentle touch might have felt good if he was convinced he was safe. Aziraphale could see the appeal, for Crowley at least, in not having to work for it. Unless the demon was in one of his self destructive undeserving moods that is. </p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale also knew he’d never be comfortable doing that, and the notion that he couldn’t do something that Crowley found comforting made him feel terribly conflicted. He needed to get away from this subject.</p><p> </p><p>“Is that why you like to be restrained? Does it trick your brain into letting you be passive and receive pleasure?”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley looked unnerved. “Ugh. That's a really unsexy way of looking at it. And anyway, who said I liked being restrained?”</p><p> </p><p>“Crowley, please,” Aziraphale snorted drily. “You've mentioned it <em> several times. </em> And I remember you having a rather spectacular reaction to me holding you down with my wings”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley groaned. “Angel, that's completely different but yeah, I’ve already told you I’d like you to hold me down. Let's all have a big laugh at the demon who likes to be manhandled and fucked within an inch of discorporation. Ha ha. Now can we move on to something<em> actually interesting </em>?"</p><p> </p><p>"When you say '<em> within an inch of discorporation </em>'..." Aziraphale was still trying to catch up. "Is this about the whipping again?"</p><p> </p><p>"It's all...<em> whatever </em> ," Crowley retorted, impatient. "A bit of whipping, spanking, choking, just a rough hard fucking like you're trying to turn me inside out. You know. <em> Whatever!" </em></p><p> </p><p>"Me?" Aziraphale squeaked. They were a very long way away from his idea of lovemaking now. "I hardly think I'd be capable of—"</p><p> </p><p>"I bet you <em> are, </em> " Crowley teased. "Especially if I got you mad enough. You've been holding it in so long, I bet you'd just <em> love </em> to go off."</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale felt his temper itch to prove Crowley right and quickly closed his eyes, shutting out the smug smirk. He adored Crowley but he was now nearly completely done with tolerating all the little acts of aggression. He'd suffered them silently for eons and they piled up in the dusty corners of his mind, ignored but never forgotten. They'd tumble over some day and would the serpent's scales be tough enough to handle that? Or would Crowley vanish in a cloud of selfish hurt?</p><p> </p><p>"If you're so desperate to change the subject then I'll oblige," Aziraphale grumbled. "We should discuss Thea's lesson today. I think it would be astute for you to take point educating her on infernal matters."</p><p> </p><p>"Erm," Crowley scratched his chin, "yeeaahh, all right...I guess I could come up with something. Never been much for...formal lesson plans though."</p><p> </p><p>That certainly wasn't a surprise. Aziraphale gave the demon a tired smile.</p><p> </p><p>“I trust you can take her through the specifics of Hellfire?”</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>*****</p><p> </p><p>Crowley entered Thea’s flat, announcing his presence with a shout, aiming a kick at the bloody fox (missed the fucker!) and sprawling out on the couch. Aziraphale closed the door behind them, shooting Crowley a nasty look, and scratching the fox behind the ear. Crowley held the angel’s annoyed gaze and smiled <em> veeeerrrrryy slowly </em>.  </p><p> </p><p>He’d learned a long time ago that he could cause Aziraphale all sorts of mental anguish simply by delivering a wide toothless smile in slow motion. It telegraphed mischief now, ever since the first time when they’d been drinking together at the castle in Carmarthen in 1405. Aziraphale had been well into his cups, going on and on about what a terrific job he’d done convincing Prince Henry to give up punitive expeditions against the Welsh. </p><p> </p><p>Crowley had been baffled at first that Aziraphale seemed to think economic blockades were going to be any kinder, before realizing it was more of the mental gymnastics the angel got into whenever he felt he had to justify the shit things Heaven had him do. Yes, starving the Welsh out of their own lands was much more civilized, Crowley agreed and gave the angel his ever so slow smile.</p><p> </p><p>The screaming started shortly after. Owain Glyndwr’s forces took the castle. <em> Someone </em> had left a gate unlocked. <em> Someone </em> had gotten a number of guards very drunk. <em> Someone </em> had been in Wales <em> fomenting </em> for five years before the angel got there.</p><p> </p><p>Anyway, the smile didn’t even have to mean anything anymore. All he had to do was smile it and the angel was aquiver with paranoia. Mighty handy when he wanted to get a rise out Aziraphale without doing any actual work, which was the case today.</p><p> </p><p>“What are you up to?” Aziraphale demanded, fingers already twisting in his waistcoat.</p><p> </p><p>“Nothing. Why?”</p><p> </p><p>“Crowley, this is a very serious lesson. I need you to—” Aziraphale was snapped out of what was sure to be a top-class whinge when Thea came into the front room. It would be quite declassé for them to argue in front of the student. Crowley smiled wider.</p><p> </p><p>“Thea, hello. I hope you don’t mind that we let ourselves in.”</p><p> </p><p>Thea shrugged and hopped onto her chair, legs folded over the arm. Aziraphale gently touched her shoulder before she could get too comfortable. “Actually, my dear, I think you ought to take a seat on the couch with Crowley for this lesson.”</p><p> </p><p>Thea arched a questioning brow at the angel, and then to Crowley. “Are we in trouble?”</p><p> </p><p>“Not yet,” Crowley grinned, folding his legs off the couch to make room for the girl.</p><p> </p><p>“Crowley, please,” Aziraphale huffed. “We’re to discuss vital subject matter today and Thea is distractible enough as it is without you being a bad influence.”</p><p> </p><p>“Bad influence!” Crowley laughed. “That is literally my job description!” </p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale actually stomped his foot and stalked off to the balcony to cool off. Crowley chewed his lip, deciding he’d probably needled the angel enough for a little while. Thea was watching Aziraphale with wide eyes.</p><p> </p><p>“Fuck,” she muttered. “He’s a grumpy potato today.”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley snorted and muttered a noise of agreement. No reason to let on that he was the cause. It was probably fairly obvious anyway. He watched Aziraphale as the angel gripped the balcony rail tightly, no doubt with his eyes closed, praying for patience. Poor thing. </p><p> </p><p>“Nice scarf,” Thea murmured and Crowley groaned, meeting her smirk with a mock glare.</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t start that again,” he warned, tucking his scarf into his waistcoat. Her two tone eyes flicked from his scarf back up to his covered eyes.</p><p> </p><p>“Mine,” she threatened in a whisper. Crowley rolled his eyes. Thankfully, Aziraphale had calmed himself enough to reenter the flat and take his seat opposite the pair.</p><p> </p><p>“Sorry, Angel,” Crowley offered smoothly. “Was just having some fun. I’ll take this more seriously.”</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale noticeably relaxed and Crowley felt a little guilty. “Oh good,” he breathed. “Now, Thea, dear. Please don’t be alarmed, but we’re going to be discussing and demonstrating Hellfire today.”</p><p> </p><p>Thea’s expression was blank and Crowley winced, realizing just how badly he’d dropped the ball getting her up to speed on the demonic part of the equation. </p><p> </p><p>Crowley glanced over at the angel, mentally marking his distance. Aziraphale’s seat was set a safe distance away from the couch, but the angel caught his look and slid the chair back a little further anyway.</p><p> </p><p>“Erm, right so...Hellfire,” Crowley muttered, turning back to Thea and trying to think of the words to describe it. Hellfire was just <em> Hellfire </em>, basically second nature to him. He’d never really thought about it in depth before. Thea was watching him, interested, and he suddenly felt put on the spot. Stupid to be nervous talking about something so bloody simple as fucking Hellfire.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s a weapon, obviously, we demons can conjure at will,” he started.</p><p> </p><p>“Can you throw it?” she asked, intrigued. “Like a fireball?”</p><p> </p><p>“Errrmm...yyyeaah, I’d imagine,” Crowley scratched his chin. He’d never actually tried. For all his suggestion that it was a weapon, he’d only ever used it frivolously.</p><p> </p><p>“So it’s just fire?” she asked, when he continued to not explain. Crowley shot Aziraphale an apologetic look. The angel was tapping his index finger on the armrest impatiently before folding his hands onto his lap.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s fire,” he agreed, and conjured a small ball of it in the palm of his hand. “But I wouldn’t say it’s <em> just </em> fi—" He cut off mid sentence as Thea’s hand darted out and passed through the unholy flame. Crowley gaped at her and he heard Aziraphale’s startled squeak. Thea snatched her hand back at their expression, embarrassed.</p><p> </p><p>“Sorry!” she blurted. “Bad habit. Used to do that as a kid. You know, pass a finger through a flame and — “</p><p> </p><p>“A <em> candle </em> perhaps, Thea!” Aziraphale exclaimed, frustrated. “Not <em> Hellfire </em>!”</p><p> </p><p>“Sorry,” Thea offered again. “Low impulse control. Sorry.” She looked up at Crowley then, worried. “Did I hurt you? Did it feel weird?”</p><p> </p><p>“Course it didn’t hurt <em> me </em> ,” Crowley snorted. “It’s just regular Hellfire to <em> me </em> . I’m a demon! Should’ve felt bloody horrible for <em> you </em>though.</p><p> </p><p>“It felt fine,” Thea murmured, inspecting her hand. It wasn’t remotely burned. “I definitely felt something, like a crawling sensation, but it didn’t hurt. It was the same as when I touched the sigils you put on my doorknob.”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley remembered that she’d flinched back when the wards accepted her. He’d thought he’d seen something ripple across her hand then, but he’d been so focused on other matters he hadn’t given it any more thought. She clearly had a reaction to infernal energies, but they weren’t at all what they were supposed to be. </p><p> </p><p>He wasn’t sure what a proper teacher would do here, so he made the choice to carry on and see what happened next.</p><p> </p><p>“Do it again,” he instructed, holding the fire up for her.</p><p> </p><p>“No!” Aziraphale shouted. “Don’t —”</p><p> </p><p>Thea had immediately followed Crowley’s suggestion before Aziraphale finished his protest. They sat back in silence, looking at her hand. The parts of her skin licked by the fire had quickly turned to a glistening black, her nails long sharp claws, like Crowley’s own. Then, just as suddenly, the darkness rippled and faded back to her normal pale skin.</p><p> </p><p>“Uh…” Thea stammered, looking at her hand with a mixture of horror and fascination. “Uh oh.”</p><p> </p><p>Right. Uh oh. This was very far from Crowley’s area of expertise. He looked to Aziraphale for assistance and only then realized the angel was glaring at him, eyes nearly glowing with holy wrath. Aziraphale was actually truly furious.</p><p> </p><p>“Uh,” he said, disappearing the fire.</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale shuddered, holding back what was bound to have been an epic tongue-lashing and instead began a scornful diatribe about Crowley’s irresponsibility and a lecture about the dangers of Hellfire and caution being the better part of valour. Crowley sank into the couch trying not to take it personally. If the angel wanted to lead the lesson he shouldn’t have thrust Crowley into the lead. He never wanted to do it anyway. Teaching really wasn’t his bag. Besides, wasn’t it more important to note the <em> discovery </em> they’d just made, and what it could mean? Wasn’t that worth a little risk?</p><p> </p><p>“Look, I’m sorry, all right?” he relented, holding his hands up in a placating gesture. “S'Not like impulse control is <em> my </em> forté either, you know.”</p><p> </p><p>He growled at Aziraphale’s haughty expression and lit his hand up again in demonstration of his impulses.</p><p> </p><p>“CROWLEY!“ Aziraphale barked.</p><p> </p><p>Thea immediately passed her hand through the flame again.</p><p> </p><p>“THEA!” The angel had to be nearing an aneurysm at this point.</p><p> </p><p>Crowley extinguished the flame again watching the same shadowy ripple pass over her skin. He really had no idea what that meant. It hinted toward some kind of true form, but as a human Thea should only have the one. That was a disturbing thought. She <em> was </em> human, right? Everyone had just assumed that but…</p><p> </p><p>“Crowley?” The angel’s voice was colder than he ever remembered hearing it. He looked up into a face so devoid of emotion it was frightening. He looked very much like an angel using every thin remaining scrap of control to avoid going completely bonkers. “A word please?” Aziraphale’s request brooked no argument and the angel vanished up through the ceiling.</p><p> </p><p>“I think you’re in trouble,” Thea whispered.</p><p> </p><p>“Yup.”</p><p> </p><p>“You gonna be okay?” she asked, and the silly thing actually looked worried for him.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah,” he shrugged, unfolding himself from the couch. “Aziraphale’s all bluster really. It’ll be fine.”</p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p> </p><p>Crowley found himself slammed face first into the wall a mere half a second after entering his flat, thinking, ‘<em> Bluster really carries a sting these days.’ </em></p><p> </p><p>“Are you still trying to force me to lose my temper,” Aziraphale growled. “Or have you just lost your damn mind?”</p><p> </p><p>“Probably a bit of both,” Crowley squawked, pushing back against the iron grip the angel had between his shoulder blades. Aziraphale spun him around before shoving him back into the wall again hard and <em> wow </em> yup, that role reversal was doing it for Crowley, just as expected.</p><p> </p><p>“Not to be a pest, but you seem a bit miffed,” Crowley snickered. “And I feel compelled to remind you that all <em> this </em>,” he gestured to their current positions, “isn’t going to have the effect you’re looking for.”</p><p> </p><p>“Why can’t you just be quiet?” Aziraphale rumbled, releasing Crowley’s lapels after another quick shove. They connected briefly before the angel turned away but it was enough for Crowley to notice the hardness centred in those tan clad hips and somehow the demon got <em> more </em> excited.</p><p> </p><p><em> Careful </em> , he warned himself. <em> More excited means more stupid. </em> But he <em> was </em>excited, so he was also stupid, so he followed Aziraphale into the kitchen, snickering until the blonde whirled back around to face him. </p><p> </p><p>“I am warning you, Crowley,” he bellowed. “You are on extremely thin ice at the moment.”</p><p> </p><p>He was. He knew he was, but the scent of Aziraphale’s anger was calling to him like a distant storm, powerfully dangerous and terrifyingly fascinating. Crowley straightened his glasses, realizing they were still askew, then reached out with his hand, as if to gently cup the angel’s red cheek. Aziraphale was glaring at him spitefully, but when Crowley’s hand changed trajectory at the last moment and booped his little upturned nose those eyes flew wide with fury.</p><p> </p><p>The demon shrieked in perverted glee when the angel snatched him up again and shoved him hard over the counter, knocking their stacked plates and cutlery from earlier to shatter on the tile floor with a delightful cacophony.</p><p> </p><p>“You’d better tell me now if this is anything other than <em> green </em>,” Aziraphale threatened, kicking Crowley’s feet further apart.</p><p> </p><p>“Fuck, Angel,” he groaned. “Give it to me.”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley had no idea what happened to his clothing. They may have been miracled away by one or both of them, or maybe they were falling to shreds on the kitchen floor. He only knew that he was suddenly naked, except for his glasses, and a cold slick finger had just been rather insistently thrust up his arse.</p><p> </p><p>“Ah! Yes!” he shouted, arching back at the pain-pleasure before being bent back over the counter. His legs shook with excitement and arousal and he moaned when the bare skin of his hip rubbed against soft fabric. Aziraphale was still clothed and that was f<em> ucking hot </em>. The burning stretch inside him doubled as another finger was thrust in and once again Crowley cackled encouragement. </p><p> </p><p>“Come on, Angel. You can do better than that,” he heckled, grinning madly. “I thought you were angry!”</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale jammed another two fingers in, dripping with slick and Crowley howled in pleasure, his wings suddenly exploding from his back, sweeping awkwardly over the counter. Clang! There went the fruit bowl, Thud! went the toaster oven. No room for anything on this granite worktop but a writhing demon and his unruly feathered appendages. </p><p> </p><p>“You idiot!” Aziraphale spouted, trying to collect his wings out of the way. Crowley tried to concentrate on folding them back in but the angel was distracting him, sliding his thick cock home until he was fully sheathed. He paused there with a grunt of pleasure or annoyance, the demon couldn’t tell,</p><p> </p><p>“You want your bloody wings out?” Aziraphale grumbled, and Crowley nodded because doing anything at all with them at this point seemed like a colossal waste of concentration. “Fine,” the angel responded, and Crowley’s eyes rolled back as he felt Aziraphale grip his fingers into the small soft feathers connecting his wings to his shoulder blades. His wings immediately snapped half closed and froze there, constricted by the pressure on his back.</p><p> </p><p>“What...Fucking HELL that’s amazing!” he panted.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m so very glad,” his angel snorted, then snapped his hips, driving into Crowley’s body with all his fury. The hand on his back gripped him firmly, forcing him flat on the counter. His other hand was clamped on Crowley’s hip and the demon found he couldn’t move an inch, couldn’t manage to do much of anything but cry out in pleasure between spouts of breathless mockery meant to egg the angel on.</p><p> </p><p>“Ah! Ah! Ah! Fuck Angel! Harder, you fussy bastard! If you don’t crack this worktop I’m not going to believe you’re — Ah! Fuck! — That you’re really all that cross!”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh for Heaven’s sake, Crowley!” Aziraphale thundered. “<em> Shut Up!” </em></p><p> </p><p>“Not my fault you forgot the gag,” Crowley cackled. The pace of the angel’s thrusts was brutal and hard and exactly what he wanted but all at once the angel pulled out of him and his cry morphed halfway through from pleasure to loss.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re right,” the angel declared, still fuming. “Put these wings away, then we’re going into the bedroom and I am going to finally get you to be quiet.” He stalked down the hall, and Crowley saw that his angry flush even colouring his plush bum before Aziraphale yanked his trousers back up.</p><p> </p><p>“Promise?” Crowley leered, finally shaking his wings back into the ether and following the angel. He ignored the demon until Crowley started snickering once more.</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale had only made it halfway down the hall before he gave a bellow of exasperation and Crowley was grabbed again, this time pulled flush against an end table with enough force to upend it and send the Dragon &amp; Lotus vase crashing to the cement floor.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> There’s £250,000 gone. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale kissed him savagely and Crowley’s brain managed to think a final elated ‘<em> Worth it’ </em>for the unfortunate vase before his mind was consumed by the feel of the angel’s tongue forcing its way into his mouth as perfectly manicured fingers scraped his scalp in their hurry to pull his hair. Then, just as suddenly, Aziraphale released him again.</p><p> </p><p>“Blast,” he swore. “I don’t...I don’t know how safewords work if you’re bound and gagged,” he complained, before muttering, “as you clearly <em> need </em> to be.”</p><p> </p><p>Fuck. So close to getting what he wanted and the angel was back to fussing about the demon’s sodding consent. </p><p> </p><p>“Fine! Damn it,” he growled back, trying to shake off the heavy layer of lust enough to tolerate this interruption. He shoved his wrists together in an impression of them already being bound. Aziraphale’s eyes darkened at that and Crowley moaned in want.</p><p> </p><p>“Okay. Green.” He gave a thumbs up. “Amber.” He clapped his hands once. “Mongoose” he added finally and clapped his hands quickly three times. “All good?”</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale nodded. He still looked angry and lustful, he was still painful erect, but when Crowley started toward the bedroom again, the angel didn’t move. Crowley turned to regard him again and the angel looked away. Crowley took his glasses off and dropped them on the remains of the end table before slowly approaching the angel.</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale shot him another glare, but it seemed hesitant this time.</p><p> </p><p>“You know that <em> you </em> can use the safewords too, right Angel?” Crowley reminded him, betraying himself out of concern for the person he’d been pestering all day. Aziraphale looked angry and confused now. “Even when you’re taking charge like this, and it feels good, Angel,” he groaned a little again. “It feels really good, you putting me in my place. But you can stop it any time, you know that, yeah?”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m afraid I’ll hurt you,” Aziraphale confessed. “I’m afraid of how much part of me <em> wants </em>to.”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley blinked, not expecting that, and suddenly feeling much more grateful for the angel’s insistence on safeword etiquette.</p><p> </p><p>“The truth is that I <em> am </em> very angry, Crowley,” Aziraphale continued, his tone sharp, his hands clenched at his sides. “And it isn’t all at Heaven or Hell, or God. I’m angry with <em> you </em>.”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley didn't think he had ever lost an erection so fast. He had thought this was a good idea, pester the angel into blowing off that pent up rage. He wanted to crack through Aziraphale’s hard shell of control so he could draw the poison out of his body.</p><p> </p><p>And now he was suddenly aware that he was standing on a precipice in very real danger of ruining everything again. There was a clarity this time, though, that Crowley hadn’t experienced before. Puzzle pieces of his own fractured fears and desires suddenly shifting and fitting into place and he thought <em> huh. This is a weird time for a bout of self discovery. </em> </p><p> </p><p>“Okay...right…” Crowley inched forward slowly, treating Aziraphale like a bomb that might go off at any second. “Maybe we should put some trousers back on me for a bit, and —“ Aziraphale barely moved but Crowley was suddenly fully dressed again, complete with his glasses. Aziraphale was back to being neatly tucked away and fastened. </p><p> </p><p>“This could be a good thing, Angel,” Crowley suggested, waiting for Aziraphale to indicate if he was allowed to touch him.</p><p> </p><p>“It doesn’t feel like a good thing to me” the angel snapped. “It feels very dangerous.”</p><p> </p><p>“It doesn’t have to be,” Crowley insisted. “Let’s just— ugh, I can’t believe I’m saying this— Let’s just talk it out. No snark or jokes from me. I swear.”</p><p> </p><p>“As if you could possibly control yourself,” Aziraphale griped. “And even if you could, hearing my testimony would no doubt send you spinning off into another self-indulgent sulk and there is frankly no time for that.”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley winced. That remark hit him square between the eyes and stung. “Yup. uh, that’s a fair comment,” he agreed. “I’ll just have to swear to you that I won’t this time. I’ll…” he didn’t really have much integrity to hang his assurances on and the wry yet unhappy look on the angel’s face said he knew it. “I’ll prepare myself for it. Like with the frying pan. If I know it is coming, it won’t burn me, right?”</p><p> </p><p>Because hearing the angel drag up old accusations was going to be exactly like scooping hot bacon grease? Fucking Hell he was an idiot.</p><p> </p><p>“Please, Angel. We’re so close…” Crowley begged. “I need you to tell me. I need to hear all of it. This is <em> it </em>, Aziraphale. This is what that fucking awful fantasy of mine was about this whole time!”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, this is about <em> you! </em>” Aziraphale’s laugh landed like a splash of acid.</p><p> </p><p>“No, I’m sorry. I don’t know why these epiphanies come when they do. I’m awful, I know,” he rushed to explain. “But I figured it out, finally, that I don’t want redemption, Angel. I want <em> absolution </em>. I want to earn your forgiveness. I want to believe that I can be worthy of you because, fuck, Aziraphale, I’m too weak to let you go, sweetheart. Please.”</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale’s coldness softened, but he shook his head. “I’m sorry. I can’t risk you running off.”</p><p> </p><p>“I won’t! I swear I won’t! I’ll sit in that fucking chair. You can tie me to it if you need to. I’ll—" A terribly ridiculous idea popped into his brain and it was so beyond stupid that he was immediately obsessed with it.</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t move!” he shouted, startling the angel. “I’ll be right back. Don’t move.”</p><p> </p><p>He sank back through the floor and dropped back into Thea’s flat. Music was blaring and he had to snap the speakers into mute in order to pinpoint where the girl was. She stepped out of the kitchen and looked down her hall, surprised to see him there.</p><p> </p><p>“What the everloving fuck, dude?” she cursed at him. “Like I don’t have enough trauma in my life I have to hear all <em> that </em>from upstairs?</p><p> </p><p>“Kitty carrier,” he demanded, making his mind up to be mortified later. “I need it. Where is it?”</p><p> </p><p>“Ew.”</p><p> </p><p>“S’Not for <em> THAT </em>!” he snarled. “Just fucking get it!”</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll trade it to you,” she grinned. “For the scarf.”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley glared at her, and stomped down to the closet, throwing the door open and ignoring her protest. Just as he hoped, the carrier was in the back. He snatched it up and shot her a smug smirk. She answered it with a pout of disappointment. He popped back up to his flat, materializing behind Aziraphale and surprising him again.</p><p> </p><p>“As if I wasn’t already cross enough!” he grumbled. “What are you doing with the —" his annoyance morphed to incredulity when understanding dawned. “No.”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s perfect! I’m not gonna snap my way out if I’m stuck in my smallest serpent form!” Crowley insisted. He definitely <em> could </em> . Of course he <em> could </em>, but he was so used to switching back to human form before doing such things and Crowley was confident that the added effort would give him sufficient pause to remember what was at stake. </p><p> </p><p>“You can lock me in and I won’t be going anywhere, Angel. You can take all the time you need to tell me everything. I want you to, Aziraphale. I want to hear it. Please.”</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale snatched the carrier from his hands and for a moment it looked like he was going to toss it away, but he hesitated.</p><p> </p><p>“Angel, I’m sorry. I want to help,” Crowley croaked. “I’ll do anything.”</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale looked skeptical, then nodded finally.  Crowley’s heart nearly exploded with relief.</p><p> </p><p>“Get in,” Aziraphale ordered, setting the open carrier on the floor. Crowley immediately shrank himself back into his smallest serpent form and gleefully slithered into the carrier, completely overwhelmed with nerves. The carrier’s cage style door shut behind him and locked. Something awful thrummed around him for a moment, the carrier lighting up in the golden sigils of a devil’s trap. Crowley whipped around and hissed impotently.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m sorry, I should have warned you, but...,” Aziraphale sighed heavily. “We both know you could still leave once your nose is out of joint, and I meant it when I said I can’t risk that,” the angel lamented, carrying Crowley to the sitting room.</p><p> </p><p>“Wot’sss the trap do!?” Crowley demanded, trying his best to steady himself in the carrier as swayed back and forth with the swing of the angel’s arm. The sigils had only blazed for a moment, and he wasn’t exactly fluent with angelic script. He knew full well that some traps could pack quite the wallop if you touched the perimeter though, and Aziraphale <em> had </em> been pretty angry. </p><p> </p><p>“Angel? Am I in danger of getting my ssscales cooked here? Because if so, I’d really appreciate it if you’d ssstop swinging the bloody box about like you’re about to use it for lawn bowling!”</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t be ridiculous, Crowley,” Aziraphale chided, but the swing of the carrier lessened significantly. “It won’t hurt you, dear. All the trap does is prevent you from escaping or changing your form.”</p><p> </p><p>“Bassstard,” Crowley hissed quietly. He actually wasn’t all that upset, oddly, but he figured he should probably be petulant for sake of appearances.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, don’t get hissy, dear,” Aziraphale pleaded as he set the carrier on the kitchen counter and looked inside at him. "You agreed you'd stay in there until I said everything I needed to get out, and honestly that could take hours. The sigils will just make sure you don't get tempted to backslide.”</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale took a step back from the counter and looked around him as if taking the whole situation in. Crowley lifted his head and flicked his tongue, trying to scent the angel’s mood, but the kitchen still reeked of anger and sex. Crowley knew the look in those blue eyes though. He was having second thoughts. </p><p> </p><p>“I shouldn’t have done this. I won’t be able to say what I need to if you’re not going to listen so..." Aziraphale’s hesitation here told Crowley volumes and each one was a tragedy. “I shouldn’t have trapped you,” he faltered, reaching for the tiny lock. “I’ll let you out.”</p><p> </p><p>“No!” Crowley snapped, and Aziraphale recoiled in surprise. Crowley didn’t want out. It <em> was </em> a good measure. It certainly made him feel better to not have to depend on his own <em> emotional maturity </em> to keep from fucking this up. “It’s fine, Angel. I know I don’t want to ssskive off the important stuff right <em> now </em>, but I don’t alwaysss make the greatest choices. Having me sssnookered like this is the safest course for both of us, Angel, honest!”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, really?” Aziraphale looked so relieved and happy that Crowley vowed to himself he’d stay put and keep his gob shut if it meant Aziraphale would keep looking at him like that.</p><p> </p><p>"When did you trap thisss carrier?" Crowley demanded, looking up at the angel, hoping there weren't little cartoon hearts in his eyes.</p><p> </p><p>"I summoned it to me when I was out on the balcony earlier," Aziraphale giggled. “I was annoyed and we’d joked about it earlier and drawing the sigils helped me vent some of my irritation at the time. I certainly hadn’t considered it would come to use so soon, or at all really, but here we are.”</p><p> </p><p>"Sssly angel," Crowley sighed, curling up in a loose coil. Aziraphale placed a finger through the bars of the door and Crowley lifted his head to slide his face against it.</p><p> </p><p>"S'All right, Angel," he promised. "I'm lissstening."</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale smiled warmly, but Crowley thought he looked a little nervous too. There was no doubt a lot the angel had to be angry with Crowley over. This wasn't going to be an easy conversation for either of them. Aziraphale withdrew his finger and moved out of view, but Crowley could hear him filling the kettle.</p><p> </p><p>“It looks like there is enough room in there with you for a cup, darling. Would you like a nice hot tea with your absolution?”</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hello all.<br/>September continues to be September. I’m still writing, and have a another two chapters buffer so I’m still on track to get this puppy finished. There will likely be a couple more chapters than I originally figured, because I wanted to take some time to really explore the emotional impact some of these events are having on these three.</p><p>Thank you for your kind comments. I’m doing okay. I’ll get through the month, and am lucky enough to have some quality support in place. I love you. Please give yourself a hug for me.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. I'm Listening</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Crowley finds that getting Aziraphale to vent his thousands of years worth of anger and resentment towards him is all well and good in theory. In practice, however, it’s really bloody uncomfortable!<br/>Also, Thea delivers the painting!</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>It should probably go without saying that therapy doesn’t work the way these two think it should. <br/>I know it feels like one step forward, two steps back with these idiots, but I promise it’s more like two steps forward and one step back. Progress is being made. </p>
<p>CW for confinement (in a kitty carrier), possible concussion, and a demon being very hard on himself.</p>
<p>Thanks again to PinkPenguinParade for the beta help.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I, I can't deny I'm paralysed from the inside</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Everyday I wake to feel the same</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>And every time you ask me how I'm feeling</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I just smile and tell you that I'm fine</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span class="u">
    <em>
      <span>I’m Fine</span>
    </em>
  </span>
  <em>
    <span> by Hazel English</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Aziraphale truly didn’t know if he could manage discussing so much unpleasantness. The magnitude of it was staggering, having slowly piled up into a hidden mountain of resentment over the eons, somehow simultaneously acutely painful and impossible to detect. He’d always felt it was his nature to protect and aid others, and dwelling on the little things was below his station as a celestial being and certainly counterproductive to his duty. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Crowley was watching him silently, citrine eyes following him as he paced the kitchen. “I was aware, you know,” Aziraphale muttered, choosing an old slight at random to begin with, “that you weren’t, in fact, </span>
  <em>
    <span>a bloody aardvark</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And perhaps there was something magical about the word, so appropriately at the beginning of an alphabetical order of injuries, but Aziraphale suddenly found it wasn’t so difficult to list them off at all. He knew them all so well. Six thousand years of petty grievances, important tasks upended, insults and sneers and eyerolls and angry assumptions. The constant expectation that Crowley could flounce in and turn his world upside down at any time and Aziraphale would happily clean up the mess. The countless tiny papercuts of every microaggression that Crowley wouldn’t have even thought about but Aziraphale would bleed from for months. It all spilled forth, an avalanche from that hidden mountain’s inevitable collapse. Aziraphale’s mouth kept going dry. He’d made himself three cups of tea over the course of it all, refilling Crowley’s little cup twice. As the night wore on he’d switched to wine. The serpent had politely refused any alcohol. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Crowley had been deathly quiet the entire time Aziraphale had been speaking. The angel had paused fifteen minutes into listing off his hurts, wondering if the demon had gone to sleep. His head was just visible through the bars, lying on the base of the carrier perfectly still. His eyes were open, but perhaps he had just disappeared his eyelids. Snakes weren’t supposed to have them, after all. However after another moment, the little head lifted to look at him expectantly, As if reading his mind, the demon repeated the last thing Aziraphale had said perfectly.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Go on, Angel,” he added, his voice small, “I’m lissstening.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span> And Aziraphale </span>
  <em>
    <span>did</span>
  </em>
  <span> go on. All evening and through the night, pausing only to wet his throat and check that Crowley was still paying attention. After every long pause, the demon would repeat his last words back to him as proof of his cooperation. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The weak light of dawn filtered in through the dark wooden blinds and Aziraphale was finally out of words. He felt utterly wretched, a level of exhaustion he'd never really experienced before.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Bother. I thought talking about one's issues was supposed to make this better!</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Aziraphale felt jumpy and raw, like an exposed nerve. Maybe he just hadn’t gotten it all out yet. Maybe there was some mythical ball of lint still stuck to the back of his skull, preventing any rush of comfort or peace. He fiddled with the lapel of his jacket, trying to think of something else to say.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m...I admit I am envious that Thea seems to relate to you so much easier than myself, despite what you did to the poor girl,” he grumbled. “I had looked forward to treating her to the Ritz. I know she’d never been and I thought…” Oh, what was he supposed to say? He’d hoped that maybe Thea might think he was </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘cool’</span>
  </em>
  <span>? As if he could possibly compete with Mr. Bad Attitude on a Stick. He sighed. He didn’t feel any better at all. He felt shaky and weak. He felt as if he’d gotten a very bad burn on his soul during the night.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re very quiet,” he told the serpent, at a loss for anything else to say. Crowley was still in a loose coil around his teacup, which had been steaming pleasantly for the last nine hours. He blinked his big eyes finally and moved his head slightly toward Aziraphale without looking at him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“M’Listening,” he said again, and this time, for some inexplicable reason, it irritated Aziraphale. That’s all the demon had said all night! And, yes, that’s all he’d </span>
  <em>
    <span>wanted </span>
  </em>
  <span> Crowley to say all night, but </span>
  <em>
    <span>now </span>
  </em>
  <span>it was annoying.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you all right, Crowley?” he asked, going to the refrigerator for a bottle of water, and to hide the look of annoyance he knew he was sporting but couldn’t explain.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Er...yeah? M’fine,” the snake intoned with more levity than Aziraphale was expecting. “I mean, this hasssn’t been my </span>
  <em>
    <span>favourite</span>
  </em>
  <span> part of the evening, much preferred when you were using my hipsss to perform a kitchen remodel, but I survived it.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A joke. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Aziraphale had been regurgitating painful memories all night and Crowley made a joke.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>*****</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“ — but I survived it,” Crowley jested awkwardly, desperately hoping to improve the poor angel’s mood. Aziraphale looked uncomfortable and tired in a way Crowley hadn’t seen before. He’d been standing in the kitchen for hours too, and Crowley wondered if his feet were sore. He’d considered asking if the angel wouldn’t prefer moving to the sitting room but chose not to risk interrupting. Crowley was also not particularly sure how to answer ‘are you all right?’ after spending the last 13 hours listening to everything he’d done to his angel.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Then Aziraphale slammed the refrigerator door hard enough to cause the appliance to knock back and crack the plaster behind it. Then he screamed. Crowley fell over his own coil in shock, trying to hit the proverbial deck. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Angel?” he squeaked, budging up to hide behind his teacup as much as possible, trying to understand where he went so wrong. Aziraphale stormed past him and Crowley felt himself panic. If Aziraphale left, he’d be trapped in here for who knows how long. He wouldn’t be able to fix whatever this was. He was relieved when the angel dropped onto the couch behind him and he slid to the back of the carrier, trying to see him through the small air holes in the plastic. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What’sss wrong?” he called out. “What did I—”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Aziraphale snapped and the speakers immediately started playing Bach’s Unaccompanied Cello Suite No. 1.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span> Loudly. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I’m all right, Angel. How are YOU? That’s what you </span>
  </em>
  <span>should </span>
  <em>
    <span>have bloody said.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Aziraphale!” he shouted, and the cello grew a tick louder. Crowley butted up against the plastic wall of the carrier, trying to climb it in hopes of better seeing the angel. If only he could make eye contact then maybe…</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Peeking through the very top hole he was able to make out the tips of a few white-gold curls near the arm of the couch. Aziraphale was lying down, and doing an excellent job of ignoring the small trapped demon.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Well, Crowley wasn’t used to being ignored. He rammed himself into the back of the carrier, feeling very much like he was connecting with a brick wall (stupid holy wards) but the plastic carrier shifted on the granite countertop. A couple more good smacks and he was able to teeter over the edge and then the carrier was tumbling to the floor behind the couch. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The fall and consequential bounce and stop caused Crowley to connect with the warded walls of the carrier a few more times until he came to rest, slightly stunned, covered in tea, but the cello only got louder.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>*****</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The yelp and clatter sound of Crowley being a ridiculous prat was not going to make Aziraphale get up from this couch. The demon was safe and unable to escape. He could wait. Aziraphale just needed a few minutes to himself. He was bone tired and it felt good to get off his feet. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He felt overwhelmed and hollowed out and now that he was lying down and listening to familiar music he just wanted to nod off. He was used to emotional exhaustion but he wasn’t used to the amount of sleep he’d had lately and now his corporation seemed to be making a connection that he found difficult to deny. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He woke up sometime later aware of a dull thumping sound under the music. Crowley was trying to escape his carrier again and the demon would concuss himself before he’d break out.  “Crowley, stop it!” he growled, but the thumping continued. Aziraphale huffed in annoyance and turned over onto his side, determined not to give in this time. The cello piece ended and then began again on repeat and Aziraphale closed his eyes and started to nod off again before he remembered that Crowley couldn’t hear him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It was the 1920’s when Aziraphale had learned about Crowley’s issues with being in loud places in snake form. They had been meeting in a jazz club to discuss another exchange in the Arrangement when one of the demon’s previous temptations walked in. Crowley became extremely cagey very quickly and before Aziraphale knew what was happening, the demon had slipped into his serpent form and dashed under the table to hide. He’d spent two hours down there, repeatedly asking if the other man had left, and never seeming to hear Aziraphale’s answer. Finally, in exasperation, Aziraphale snatched the serpent up, and left the club with the demon hidden under his jacket. Once away from all the extra sounds and vibrations, Crowley was able to hear him again. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Now, with Aziraphale on the couch, Crowley in a warded box and Bach blaring all around them, the poor snake was probably completely deaf. Aziraphale cancelled the music with a wave and suddenly he could hear the small voice of the demon grumbling between attacks at the wards.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Fucking—" Bang! “Sstupid— " bang! “Idiot demon—" bang! “Ow! Why can’t you sssay the right —” bang! “Disgusssting piece of—” bang! “Oof, Fuck! Repulsssive— " bang! “Ssstupid Stupid Ssstupid —" bang! “Ow! Ugh… whoa...whoops. NuhhEeeehhhff.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Silence.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Aziraphale sighed. </span>
  <em>
    <span>For heaven’s sake, Crowley</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He made up his mind to get up and check on the demon but he choked on a sudden unexpected sob. He took a breath to control himself and another sob came right after it. He shook his head, trying to pull himself off the couch but his body disobeyed him, curling in on itself instead as he shook apart in tears.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>*****</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Crowley had paced the confines of his little prison desperately seeking a fault in the trap. His progress was hampered by the bloody teacup and the slick puddle of tea he kept tracking through, but he kept nosing around trying to find an error in a glyph somewhere that would let him slip out. Aziraphale had said he’d enchanted the sodding carrier in a couple minutes as half a lark. Surely the sigils couldn’t be perfect!</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Except that they were. Of fucking course they were!</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>All Crowley managed to accomplish was to make himself wetter, colder, and take in twice as much tea up the nose as he could sneeze out. He tried shouting again but the music was too loud. Crowley’s voice was too small. He felt completely impotent while outside his carrier something was broken that he needed to fix.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He’d spent millennia turning away from the hurt he saw in Aziraphale’s lovely eyes. It was a forgone conclusion that he’d hurt the angel, right? So why bother trying to avoid it? Then, as time went on and he realized he fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>cared</span>
  </em>
  <span>, when he tried </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> to hurt him he still did anyway. And he refused to face Aziraphale’s pain, or his responsibility for a very simple and undemonic reason. If he refused to fix it, then he couldn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>fail</span>
  </em>
  <span> to fix it. The possibility of Crowley someday fixing it would still exist as a hypothetical. It wasn’t, perhaps, the most logical thinking, but it was an easy out for the demon and he’d taken it. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But this time Crowley had tried. He really thought he was getting somewhere. There’d been that impossible ‘capital L’ Love shining down on him in bed the night before (giving him the most intense fucking orgasms he’d ever had) healing hurts he didn’t think could ever close. And then, scary as it had been, Aziraphale wanted to open up and dangled absolution in front of Crowley’s hawkish nose and the demon really thought things were going to be better for it. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He believed this would help. He’d honestly tried, listening to what felt like an endless list of recriminations, absorbing every word as Aziraphale shed his proverbial armour. The poison was finally coming out and then Crowley made a stupid joke and ruined it. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>So he </span>
  <em>
    <span>had</span>
  </em>
  <span> to get himself out of this carrier somehow. Maybe he could throw himself at Aziraphale’s feet and beg. He could take a vow of silence and never make another sex joke again. Panic gripped him and he slammed into the little cage lock, and it felt like headbutting a block of concrete. The door made a satisfying bang though and shook in a way that (if you ignored the holy wards) seemed like it might give, and that first good smack had further dimmed Crowley’s reasoning skills so sure, why not try it again? And again? And again?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And maybe this was more about self-punishment at this point because he should really stop. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Fucking stupid idiot demon! Why can’t you say the right thing just once, you disgusting piece of shit. Repulsive! Sick! Dirty! Stupid!</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Crowley hit the lock a final time before falling over in a messy coil, the carrier spinning around on him in a disconcerting manner, but Oh! Hey! He could hear again. But, Oh! Shit! Aziraphale was crying. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Aziraphale was crying! </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Crowley rested the side of his head down in a puddle of cold tea listening to the quiet sobs. He’d tried. He’d failed. He’d made the angel feel </span>
  <em>
    <span>worse</span>
  </em>
  <span>. His eyeballs hurt.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>*****</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Aziraphale clutched a slate grey cushion against his mouth and cried for roughly ten minutes and then he simply... stopped. The abrupt end to the powerful wracking sobs would have been jarring if it wasn’t followed by another fifteen minutes or so of total emotional numbness. Then that subsided as well as Aziraphale inhaled deeply and felt fairly calm. He blinked a couple times before rubbing the last of the tears from his eyes. He should probably get up and make some tea. Or some breakfast? No, he wasn’t terribly hungry. Just tea then.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He sat up slowly, feeling momentarily light headed, but the wooziness subsided fairly quickly. Aziraphale let himself sit for a while longer in silence, enjoying this unexpected period of simply existing without drowning in a sea of tumultuous thoughts. He watched the horizontal lines of pale sunlight inch across the floor, slowly collecting himself again before he realized there was something off about the comfortable silence. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It shouldn’t be silent.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh! Crowley!” Aziraphale gasped, suddenly remembering the way the demon had been hammering himself against the trapped carrier. That couldn’t have felt very nice. Aziraphale rose on unsteady feet and came around the couch to check on the demon. The carrier was on its side, a wet spot where tea had leaked out into the tight nap of the grey rug. Crowley was a shadowy lump with wide shining eyes in the back corner.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, my dear,” Aziraphale soothed, guilt lancing through his newly acquired calm. “I’m afraid I was somewhat overwhelmed by this...process. Are you quite all right?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Crowley’s head moved ever so slightly backwards into his coil, and Aziraphale’s heart sped up a tick when the serpent didn’t answer right away.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“M’all right,” the snake offered, his voice sounded quieter than usual. Wary perhaps, or just concussed?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m going to let you out now, dear,” Aziraphale assured him gently, but paused when the demon quickly shook his head and squeaked, “Sss’all right!” before immediately seeming to regret the head motion, his golden eyes crossing slightly and his head drooping with a strangled “Nuh”.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh dear,” Aziraphale sighed. “You really shouldn’t have attacked the boundary of the trap. I told you it wouldn’t hurt you, but it </span>
  <em>
    <span>was </span>
  </em>
  <span>meant to keep you contained. You were perfectly safe in here. Why, in Heaven’s name would you do this to yourself?” Aziraphale’s voice had taken on a chiding tone. Crowley blinked one eye and then the other and said nothing.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m going to turn the carrier right-side-up now so I can let you out,” he warned the snake. “I’ll go slowly, darling, but best prepare yourself.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Crowley’s head disappeared into the centre of the ball he’d made of himself, and Aziraphale gently, slowly, rotated the carrier back to rights before opening the door and snapping away the trap. The little snake was free, but he didn’t move.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Crowley? It’s all right dear. I’ve disarmed the trap. You’re free to come out.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Nnnaaah,” came the muffled reply from somewhere inside the coil. “M’listening, Angel.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Oh Crowley. The angel smiled sadly. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sorry I frightened you, dear,” Aziraphale cooed, speaking to the demon as if he were a frightened animal. “However, I’m done talking about this for now and you can’t stay in this box forever. You’re soaking wet and you must be getting quite cold.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A little nose peeked out from under one of the coils and a black tongue flicked out. “Done?” he asked.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, dear boy,” Aziraphale assured him. “Please come out.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Then the demon was gone. Azirphale had blinked and now the carrier was empty save for an upended teacup and what little was left of its contents. Aziraphale’s heart stuttered in his chest. This was the thing he had been trying to avoid with the trap in the first place! Exactly this!</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Then he heard the sound of the shower turning on and let out a shaky breath of relief. He abandoned the mess in the carrier and quickly hurried to the bathroom. Crowley was back in his human form, loudly blowing his nose with his back to the door. The angel watched quietly as the demon shivered violently with an uttered </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Brrrreeeuughh</span>
  </em>
  <span>”  discarded the tissue in the waste bin. He peeled out of his shirt with sluggish movements and Aziraphale worried about how badly the demon may be hurt. Sure enough there were dark bruises lining his shoulder and ribs.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“May I take a look at you?” he asked quietly and the demon yelped in surprise at his voice. Crowley quickly straightened his glasses and faced him with a shaky smile.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Pffffffffft sssss nothin’,” Crowley said quickly. “Just some tea up my nose, is all. </span>
  <em>
    <span>How are you?</span>
  </em>
  <span> How are </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> feeling? That was a lot, right? Must’ve been, um, hard, eh?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Aziraphale frowned, listening to the demon’s rambling deflection.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m fine, Crowley,” he answered firmly. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Crowley chewed his lip, took an unsteady breath and finally whimpered, “Are you?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh, </span>
  <em>
    <span>enough," </span>
  </em>
  <span>Aziraphale sighed, flicking on the bathroom light. He closed their distance even as Crowley fell back a step in alarm. Aziraphale caught the demon up with a firm hand behind his back and gently removed the demon’s glasses to get a closer look at him. His skin was cold and smelled like tea.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Crowley immediately squeezed his eyes shut, wincing at the bright overhead light. He felt so perfectly still, every muscle tightly packed together, yet there was no fight in him. Aziraphale gently took him by his sharp chin and turned his head this way and that, inspecting him for injury, and Crowley complied, breath held, eyes closed, soundless. There was a dark bruise high over his right eye, half hidden in his copper hair. Aziraphale clucked his tongue at the sight of it and Crowley flinched slightly at the sharp sound.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m going to heal this,” Aziraphale murmured, gently stroking over the darkened skin, “if you will allow it.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“If...mmn...If you like,” Crowley stammered. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Aziraphale hesitated. Crowley was acting strangely, and while he was clearly at least mildly concussed from his own idiocy, that wasn’t a full explanation for him to be acting so meek and </span>
  <em>
    <span>unCrowleyish</span>
  </em>
  <span>. If this was his way of making Aziraphale feel badly for everything he’d said through the night, well it wouldn’t work. He was finally feeling quite a bit better after shedding that emotional weight and seeing as how Crowley was the one who created that weight in the first place, the least he could do was hear it. If he wanted to keep his migraine then he could.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Crowley cracked one eye open when Aziraphale didn’t deliver the miracle he’d suggested, a sliver of pale yellow showing under his lashes, and then slowly he opened his eyes to look at Aziraphale warily, before having to wince them shut again from the light.  The angel could hear Crowley’s heartbeat, feel the fast pulse of it in his fingertips where they rested on his temple. Aziraphale felt his own eyes widen in surprise. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Crowley was terrified! Of all the reactions the angel thought Crowley would have to his giant laundry list of various resentments, terror wasn’t one of them.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Ng umm. You don’t have to,” Crowley croaked, breaking the silence finally. “I can do it.” His lithe hand came up and he snapped. The bruises vanished, but the fast pulse remained. Crowley opened his eyes finally, smiling weakly. Aziraphale watched, confused and almost fascinated as that smile faltered, slipped, came back wider. Crowley’s eyebrows remained pinched in an expression of pain or fear, giving the smile a sick nervous feel. It was as if the more the demon tried to hide his feelings, the more his face betrayed him. Aziraphale wasn’t at all used to seeing the demon so badly flustered. Wide yellow eyes flicked toward the shower and then back to the angel.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Er... I’m gonna just…” he cleared his throat. “Shower. Um... the tea and— cold.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course,” Aziraphale murmured, slowly releasing his hold on Crowley. “Go ahead.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Crowley looked embarrassed for a moment, and quickly shed the rest of his clothing and stepped under the hot stray. He started to close the shower door when Aziraphale caught it. “Would you mind terribly if I joined you?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Uh nnmh no?” Crowley flushed, looking surprised now and confused. “But, don’t feel </span>
  <em>
    <span>obligated </span>
  </em>
  <span>to. I know showers aren’t your thing and I’m not...I healed myself so m’fine and I’ll be out soon.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’d like to,” Aziraphale smiled. “But I don’t want to intrude either.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Nnrrmph,” Crowley muttered, stepping back and making an ‘after you’ gesture. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Aziraphale let the door close so he could undress, then joined Crowley in his shower.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Like so much of Crowley’s flat, the shower was a posh, if stark, monstrosity. It seemed well suited to two people, which made him wonder. The rest of the flat was so confounding and uninviting so who was he sharing his shower with? Was it unconsciously chosen in case Aziraphale someday came around? What a thought. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The silvery grey tile was nearly a match in colour to the concrete floors and walls elsewhere in the flat, and the two drains and various shower fixtures were a brushed pewter finish. It was immaculate. Not a spec of mildew or grime. The steam rose in tight swirls and the heat was glorious. He could imagine the demon selecting the dual shower heads so he could sprawl out on the tile and make the most of the delectable humidity. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>That mental image started a cascade of more lustful ones and Aziraphale bit the inside of his cheek in order to pull himself together.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Crowley glanced at him as he stepped in, and turned another dial, causing a second showerhead to erupt in wonderfully hot water against the back of Aziraphale’s head and shoulders.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh!” Aziraphale exclaimed in surprise. “Oh, that</span>
  <em>
    <span> is</span>
  </em>
  <span> nice,” he added, realizing Crowley hadn’t been exaggerating about the water pressure. It felt very relaxing indeed. Crowley was watching him, and his smile seemed more genuine now.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Well?” Aziraphale insisted, grinning. “Will you show me how you get clean?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Crowley snorted. “Clean, sure. As clean as—” he cut himself off with a little timid cough. “Uh. Yyyeah, here…” he amended, his voice flat as he reached for the bottle of body wash.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What were you going to say, dear?” Aziraphale fretted, not liking the evasive self-censoring the demon seemed to be suddenly dedicated to.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“S’nothing,” he sighed. “Just a bad joke. MMnnmmeugh… m’always doing that, sorry.” Crowley turned to face him then and his eyes were genuine pools of sadness. “M’Sorry, Angel. For all of it. I’ll do better. I promise. No more jokes.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Oh Lord.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Aziraphale could feel his heart breaking.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>*****</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Crowley bit his tongue hard enough to taste blood as Aziraphale’s pale body joined him in the shower. How many sad wanks had he had in here while thinking about his angel? Too many to not immediately be half hard at the mere </span>
  <em>
    <span>thought</span>
  </em>
  <span> of him in here. He silently expended a little demonic energy, just enough to deaden his cock before Aziraphale could see it and get upset. He turned his head under the spray, focusing on pulling some heat into his shivery bones. Get warm. He could handle that, right? </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Stupid. This whole thing was stupid. What a bloody mess. All thanks to his cack-handed attempt at levity.  Crowley snarled at himself, hiding the ugly expression by pretending to wash his face. Aziraphale was obviously graciously giving him another chance to </span>
  <em>
    <span>not cock things up</span>
  </em>
  <span> and Crowley would try. Oh Hell...Someone...he would </span>
  <em>
    <span>try</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Won’t work though.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>If there was a personification of Sod’s Law, it was Anthony J. Crowley.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He glanced behind him at the angel who was, apparently admiring the tilework. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Awkward.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Crowley turned on the second shower head then winced at the shocked “Oh!” from Aziraphale as he was inundated from behind with an unexpected deluge of hot water.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Should have warned him</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Shit.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, that </span>
  <em>
    <span>is</span>
  </em>
  <span> nice,” Aziraphale suddenly sighed, relaxing his pale shoulders into the water. Crowley let his breath out in relief, smiling at the angel’s expression of bliss.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Will you show me how to get clean?” Aziraphale grinned, and Crowley snorted, almost reflexively at the idea of </span>
  <em>
    <span>him</span>
  </em>
  <span> being cleaner than </span>
  <em>
    <span>Aziraphale</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Clean, sure." </span>
  <em>
    <span>Clean as a demon can ever be, anyway.</span>
  </em>
  <span> “Clean as —” he cut himself off quickly. Shit! Already slipping. “Here,” he reached for the cleanser, cursing his luck when Aziraphale asked what he was about to say.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Idiot!</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Just a bad joke. M’always doing that, sorry.” Crowley forced himself to face Aziraphale, look him in the eye. The angel deserved a proper apology. And Crowley deserved nothing more than to apologize forever if it was what Aziraphale wanted. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, Angel. For all of it. I’ll do better. I promise. No more jokes.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Aziraphale looked hurt and Crowley felt himself start to panic again. “I’m sorry!” he coughed, breathing in a bit too much wetness. “Uh...I don’t...I don’t know what…”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>How was he cocking this up </span>
  <em>
    <span>again</span>
  </em>
  <span>? Why couldn’t he even apologize right? Panic coiled in his guts and he wanted almost nothing more than to curl up on the floor of the shower and scream into his hands. All of his tools for dealing with this discomfort were out of bounds. No snark, no jokes, no fleeing, and no curling up into a shrieking ball. He swallowed a cry of frustration but it still wiggled out of his mouth as a garbled quack. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Crowley,” Aziraphale sighed, reaching for him. Crowley almost took his hand, desperate for the comfort of his angel’s arms, but he thankfully caught himself at the last moment and let his arm drop to his side woodenly.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>No</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he chastised himself. </span>
  <em>
    <span>This isn’t about you, you infernal bastard</span>
  </em>
  <span>. “Erm. Sorry. You wanted the soap, right?” he thrust the bottle into Aziaphale’s waiting hand. “I can summon you a washcloth if you want or a...ummmphh… a puff, if you prefer?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Crowley, come here please,” Aziraphale directed firmly, soundly setting the bottle back on the shelf with a light smack. Crowley swore under his breath and complied, stepping out of the spray and letting the angel take his hand. He wanted to avert his gaze, but Aziraphale wouldn’t like it, so he swallowed hard and looked the angel in the eyes again.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What...er...sorry. What do you need?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I need you to be my Crowley again,” Aziraphale told him, pulling the demon firmly against his soft warm body. Crowley’s mind was racing, and he was very grateful that the embrace had pulled his face flush with the stream of hot water, because he wouldn’t have been able to respond to that even if he knew how to. Unfortunately his stupid corporation had its own things to say about his mouth and nose being forcibly filled with water and he immediately began hacking and spluttering.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh dear! I’m sorry!” Aziraphale exclaimed, and immediately put a stop to Crowley’s accidental waterboarding. Crowley found himself being pulled forward and down as Aziraphale slid his back down the tile wall to sit in the steam. A moment later Crowley was guided onto his lap. Panic seized Crowley again and he started to twist away. He’d had this fantasy too! Hell, he’d imagined having the angel in just about every possible way on every horizontal surface of the flat. Quite a few vertical ones too. </span>
  <em>
    <span>He might have to move.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Crowley! Stop being a blooming idiot and get over here,” Aziraphale argued and Crowley was suddenly fully snatched up and set sideways on a pair of soft creamy thighs. The angel’s arms wrapped around his chest, pulling him in tightly until Crowley finally hunched his shoulders and tucked his head under the angel’s chin. There was nothing particularly sexy about this position, so that was fine, he supposed, although he did feel like a small child being comforted and that part was a little weird.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Love you,” he muttered against Aziraphale’s chest. He didn’t know what else to say, and hoped that would cover it.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I love you too, darling,” the angel answered, nuzzling into his hair. “I adore you so much, but I never wanted you to stop being yourself, Crowley. I never wanted you to treat me like a fragile doll.” Crowley closed his eyes and tentatively returned the embrace, twisting himself slightly closer, wrapping his skinny freckled arms over strong round shoulders. “It breaks my heart that you think you have to bury your wit and humour for me, darling. Please don’t.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Crowley sighed, half in pleasure (Someone help him, he was hopeless), half in frustration. He bit his tongue again to keep silent. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I wasn’t ready for a joke then,” Aziraphale explained, and Crowley hated himself for making Aziraphale feel that he needed to explain. “I was feeling horribly overwhelmed at the time, and I admit I was a touch...volatile.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“‘course you were,” Crowley insisted. “You’ve been through so much, Angel. You’re allowed to lose your shit on occasion. Hell, I’m doing it all the bloody time so...You should feel like you </span>
  <em>
    <span>can</span>
  </em>
  <span>. With me I mean. I just wanted to be a safe place for you to be open and I ruined it with my stupid bloody jokes.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“So instead you act completely unlike yourself, cutting off your sentences and afraid to look me in the eye?” Aziraphale tilted Crowley’s chin to make him look at him again. “Is </span>
  <em>
    <span>this</span>
  </em>
  <span> how you make a safe place for me to be open with you? Because now I’m having to cuddle you when I’d have much preferred it the other way today, if I’m being honest.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Crowley stared into those beautiful, incredulous blue eyes as the angel’s words sank through the many layers of self-recrimination, finally hitting home and sending off a fresh vibrant surge of panic.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“OhshitohshitohshitOhShit!” he moaned, tearing at his hair in frustration. “Fuck Fuck Fuck I’m Sorry! You’re right. You’re always right. I should…  he twisted out of Aziraphale’s arms and scrabbled around to sit beside him instead. “Here, let me—”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Crowley, what are—”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m going to cuddle you!” he snapped. “Just come here and I’ll—”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Aziraphale burst out laughing and Crowley blushed furiously, feeling utterly ridiculous. This was so bloody frustrating and utterly stupid. At least the angel was laughing, which was certainly better than most alternatives. Crowley started to laugh a bit too, uneasy, cautious little huffs of anxiety amid the glorious peal of golden laughter beside him. Finally the angel's mirth seemed to subside and they sat together on the floor of the shower in silence for a while.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t actually </span>
  <em>
    <span>need</span>
  </em>
  <span> you to literally cuddle me at this moment, Crowley,” Aziraphale chuckled. “Although your grumpy invitation is noted and appreciated. I’d just rather not have to chase after you today, if that’s all right.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Not going anywhere,” Crowley grumped, feeling defensive.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m glad,” Aziraphale sighed finally, resting his head against Crowley’s shoulder, closing his eyes against the cast off water from the shower. Crowley looked up at the twin shower heads, still needing the heat of the steaming water to warm the chill in his bones, but not at the expense of the angel’s comfort. With another quiet bout of grumbling he unfurled his wings (carefully this time, shattering the glass of the shower door would hurt and definitely ruin the mood) and curled them just so in order to protect Aziraphale’s head from the drops. The angel lifted his head and smiled at the black feathery umbrellas.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Reminds me of...” he murmured, trailing off.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Crowley nodded, wrinkling his nose as the water saturated his thick layers of feathers. He’d forgotten what it was like to have wet wings. The bloody things took ages to feel dry. And worst, despite the way he teased the angel for the state of his wings, Crowley’s were infinitely worse. He’d unfurled them more in the months following the aflopolypse than he had in centuries and the water coming off his feathers was much greyer than it should be. And was that a </span>
  <em>
    <span>twig</span>
  </em>
  <span>? Where had </span>
  <em>
    <span>that </span>
  </em>
  <span>come from? How long had it been there? Bloody fuck, no wonder his wings itched sometimes when he thought about them.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span> “Well…” he cleared his throat. “Uh, listen...I did want to say that, you know...eerrrummm sorry for...</span>
  <em>
    <span>the worst of it</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” Aziraphale looked up at him, blue eyes so bloody soulful. Crowley had to look away or he wouldn’t be able to keep talking. “I mean, obviously not </span>
  <em>
    <span>all of it</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” he added, cancelling out what he’d said before, the embarrassing </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘too much’</span>
  </em>
  <span> of it all.  “I mean, still got to get my licks in, have myself a proper angel flustering every now and then. Not gonna apologize for that when you make it so easy. “</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I see,” Aziraphale’s smile was wry.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“But I didn’t mean, you know, the joke this morning,” Crowley went on, hoping the angel would blame the flush on his cheeks on the steam. “Just my usual bad timing, innit?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You didn’t mean it?,” Aziraphale teased. “So you </span>
  <em>
    <span>didn’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> enjoy me ‘using your hips to remodel the kitchen’?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Ngk...er...”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Shame. I enjoyed it quite a bit,” Aziraphale shrugged. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Crowley swallowed hard, very grateful for the miracle he put on his eager loins earlier. Aziraphale’s smirk would have ruined him otherwise. He quickly pawed for a change of subject.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I also have a, erm...suggestion about how you could bond with Thea,” he volunteered, “if that would be welcome.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, I shouldn’t have said anything about it,” Aziraphale waved it off. “That was petty of me.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Art, Angel,” Crowley gave the suggestion anway. “She’s an artist, and she likes stories and you have scads of stories about artists. Take her to a bloody gallery, you sodding git.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Aziraphale beamed one of his more radiant smiles and Crowley finally felt warm. “That’s perfect.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeeaap, that’s me,” Crowley drawed happily, “Comin’ up with perfect ideas all the livelong day. Think nothing of it, mate.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Aziraphale giggled at him. “Mate,” he repeated back, eyes twinkling. Crowley grumbled.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Obviously, you’re more than just my mate, Angel,” he growled. “It’s just a—”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course, dear. I know,” Aziraphale assured him. “I was just thinking of...the word play.” The angel picked up his hand, interlacing their fingers. “Mate,” he murmured lovingly and Crowley’s miracle’d cock twitched awake because no amount of infernal tampering was going to keep it from stirring at </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span>!</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“So Thea’s immune to Hellfire and has demon skin!” he squeaked. “That’s a thing, eh?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Aziraphale frowned thoughtfully at that. “Yes. Most concerning. We should address that quickly, you’re right.” The angel raised his hand while still holding Crowley’s so he could kiss the demon’s fingers. “If you’re warm enough, we ought to get on with the day.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The water shut off with a snap and Crowley vanished his dripping wings. Those were going to bother him all day. What in Lilith’s Saggy Tits had he been thinking? </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They dried off and moved on to the bedroom while Aziraphale tried to formulate some sort of plan. Crowley kept an eye on Aziraphale as he toweled off his mop of red hair. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>seemed</span>
  </em>
  <span> all right, but what if he wasn’t? What if Crowley was missing something again?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“D’you wanna wait a bit, Angel? You must be exhausted,” Crowley murmured, shifting himself a little closer to the angel.  How does one fuss without fussing? That's the question.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I was thinking the same thing about you,” Aziraphale smiled and Crowley lifted a brow in question. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Thass stupid. M’not the one who stood in the kitchen for over ten hours, spilling his guts,” Crowley growled. “M’fine. You should probably eat something. Get your strength back.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I at least took a short nap on the couch,” Aziraphale told him, which was a genuine surprise to Crowley. “You stayed up all night listening to everything and I know that had to be difficult to hear, darling. And then...with the wards.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Crowley winced in embarrassment. Not a strong showing from him this morning. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, I know for a fact you didn’t get much sleep the night before last as well,” Aziraphale continued primly. “You need to get your strength back too, so we should probably </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p><span>If Crowley had ever wondered what it would sound like to have his brain fall out of his open mouth, the answer was apparently “Hhhrrnk”. Right! So! Suspicion confirmed:</span><em><span> He was definitely missing something! </span></em><span>Aziraphale just kept staring out into the middle distance, twiddling his thumbs, but his silvery eyebrows drew down in consternation. “No, sorry, dear. I tried it out but I just </span><em><span>don’t like</span></em> <em><span>that</span></em> <em><span>word</span></em><span>. You’re welcome to use it if you must, but it doesn't feel right to me. We should make love though, and soon, if you’re willing.”</span></p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Uh…” Crowley tried to make a sentence, failed. “Yooouuu…ummm...” He frowned in utter confusion, trying desperately to figure out what </span>
  <em>
    <span>the heavenly frollicky fuck just happened</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He eased himself back against the wall, figuring he could use any and all help to keep standing.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll make myself something to eat after,” the angel assured him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, Uh...m’sorry. Wot?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Aziraphale blushed then so maybe Crowley wasn’t completely losing his mind.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s just that I’ve noticed that you tend to perk up quite a bit after we make love. I think you may find it even more restorative than sleeping, and we still have to sort out the mess with Thea and what happened with the Hellfire, so I’d prefer you not spend the rest of the day unconscious if possible.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Crowley set the back of his head against the wall. “Huh,” he uttered. He’d never actually thought about it, still just so happy to be having sex with the angel </span>
  <em>
    <span>in real life</span>
  </em>
  <span> for a change. He’d never noticed how he felt </span>
  <em>
    <span>after</span>
  </em>
  <span>, but Aziraphale may have been on to something there. Still, There was something off-putting about the angel offering to fuck him in order to recharge the ol’ batteries. He’d managed to get along fine all these years without a pity fuck (self-pity wanks didn’t count) and he wasn’t going to start now.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Let’s put a pin in that, kay?” Crowley muttered. “You’re right about needing to focus on the weirdo in the flat under us. Not that I'm looking forward to dealing with her after last night.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What do you mean?” the angel looked concerned. “Did something happen after the Hellfire incident?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, I popped down to get the carrier, and…” Crowley waved his hand around dismissively, knowing Aziraphale was going to be mortified and unsure how to soften the blow. “Hhhhhhhhhheeeeeh. It ssseems we may have been a bit loud with the kitchen remodel is all." </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And yep, the angel went white. “Oh no.” Aziraphale cringed and immediately was fully dressed from oxfords to bowtie. Angel warned, pityfuck averted, and no feelings unnecessarily hurt. Not a terrible job at disaster wrangling. Well done, him. He snapped on his own outfit, giving his glasses a shine on his waistcoat.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeh, so. I’ll be soundproofing the flat at some point today, I think”.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, definitely,” Aziraphale nodded wanly. “Capital idea. I think perhaps I’ll pick her up some brandy or something while I’m out.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Out?” This was the first Crowley was hearing of going out.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’d like to head by the green grocer first and pick up some fresh fruit for Thea, but now I think a trip to the off license is in order.” Aziraphale went on to harp about his concern for Thea’s diet and how it seemed such a chore to get her to eat. Crowley smirked, figuring the more Aziraphale pressed it, the more of a shit Thea was going to be, even if she did want a bloody salad.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Sooo, you want to buy her fruit?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, I have been trying to keep her stocked in fruits and veg,” the angel confirmed.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You want her to eat fruit?” Crowley said again, grinning mischievously. Aziraphale gave him a confused and fretful look and the demon feigned innocence in a way that always prompted a great deal of fussing. “You ssssuggested that the young lady eat some fruit. I sssee.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Why?” Aziraphale fussed, worrying at the hem of his waistcoat. “What’s wrong with that?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Nothing,” Crowley sniffed. “Just find it interesting, thass all.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m just— “ Aziraphale’s face darkened as he cottoned on. He gave Crowley an absolutely filthy look and Crowley congratulated himself on a good angel fluster. Aziraphale did say he wanted Crowley back to being Crowley. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Some people happen to catch shite for such things,” he went on, smirking his smarmiest smirk.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“How droll,” Aziraphale’s voice suggested it was anything of the sort, which to Crowley meant it was very funny indeed.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I can do the shopping, if you want,” he suggested, changing the subject and hopefully smoothing over the feathers he’d ruffled. “Unless you wanted to go out for some air.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Aziraphale seemed to consider this a moment. “Actually, if you wouldn’t mind picking up some items, I </span>
  <em>
    <span>have</span>
  </em>
  <span> made a list. I would like to talk to Thea about going to a gallery later, as you suggested.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“S’not a problem, Angel,” Crowley stepped forward and placed a kiss under Aziraphale’s ear. “You go bond.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“And you’ll get her some spirits as well?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Think I can probably manage it,” Crowley snorted.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I wanted to be sure, since it is raining absolute buckets out there and I know how you hate to get wet,” Aziraphale’s smirk was nearly as nasty as his own. Fuck, Crowley hadn’t checked the weather before he’d made the offer. No matter. He wouldn’t get a drop on him if he didn’t want to.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He adopted the swaggering walk he hoped projected cool nonchalance as headed for the front door, snapping on a jacket. Might have pulled it off, too, if he didn't get spooked by the light brown rectangle leaning against the corridor wall opposite his doorway. Crowley hissed in surprise and recoiled before he could catch himself.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"What is it?!" Aziraphale cried in alarm, hand against his throat and eyes wide in panic. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Uh," </span>
  <em>
    <span>Shit. 'Course he'd see that.</span>
  </em>
  <span> "Just a bit jumpy," Crowley grimaced, snatching the paper-wrapped canvas and hauling it into the flat.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh, I see," Aziraphale teased. "I completely understand. How distressing."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Well s'not like there'sss supposed to be anything</span>
  <em>
    <span> there," </span>
  </em>
  <span>Crowley snapped. "And need I remind you that Hastur's been ssspotted lurking about and the slimy amphibious cockwomble knows where I live so yeah, the sudden appearance of— "</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"He knows where you live!?" Aziraphale gasped. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"You </span>
  <em>
    <span>know</span>
  </em>
  <span> that, Angel!" Crowley growled. He'd told Aziraphale the story of melting Ligur and bullshitting Hastur several times and they'd only been completely plastered </span>
  <em>
    <span>most</span>
  </em>
  <span> of those times.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Is it safe to be here?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"S'not </span>
  <em>
    <span>safe</span>
  </em>
  <span> to be anywhere," he shrugged. "They know the flat, they know the shop. They know the bloody Ritz."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Crowley didn’t have a plan for surviving the end of the world. He fully figured the world was fucked and the only thing for it was to grab the angel and flee to the stars. Agnes Nutter’s prophecy may have saved them from destruction once, but in the following months of getting pissed, getting bored, or getting down right paranoid neither of them had come up with one single good plan for if trouble came knocking.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I did suggest going off together,” Crowley reminded him. “Just remember that. Crowley was right.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You weren’t, in point of fact,” Aziraphale argued, eyebrows pinched in annoyance. “And it is moot at this point anyway. Just open the painting, will you please?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Crowley scoffed and propped the canvas on the couch. “Don’t get your hopes up, Angel. Didn’t you see her swiping at it? All that black paint?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"You like black," Aziraphale pointed out, completely unnecessarily.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Just saying it's completely obvious, innit? Get ready for some pedestrian rubbish shadows or fire or something equally avant garde!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, just take a look before you assume the worst, won’t you?” Aziraphale grumbled. The angel was getting narky again, but Crowley wasn’t ready to look yet. He never actually agreed to this in the first place. Bloody presumptuous of the angel to have an Empath paint a demon’s...whatever, aura? Energy? Some snippet of his damaged soul? Black paint. Just a confirmation he was nowt but fire and char. Yeah, he could do without it, come to think. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But Aziraphale was doing that hand flapping thing now and there’d be no end to the whinging so Crowley tore the paper off the canvas for him, refusing to look, then stormed out of the flat but not before he heard the sharp intake of breath followed by Aziraphale’s soft “Oh!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>FFFfffffuuuuuuuck.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He turned around in the doorway. He was going to have to see it eventually. Couldn’t avoid his sitting room forever so…</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh fuck me.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He had no idea what could be done with black paint. He stepped back into the room, head tilted at the painting like it was trying to pull one over on him somehow. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The thing was... that it wasn’t actually all black somehow. The top third of the canvas was layered in bright cumulus clouds that seemed so realistically lit with gleaming light he’d swear the canvas was actually illuminated. The clouds piled on the right side of the painting leading into a towering cumulonimbus that served to cut the top segment off from the rest. Here was where the black began. A narrow band of inky darkness slashed across the whole of the painting about three centimeters thick, and there </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> fire. Three disembodied sparks of it in all, blazing bright and infernal out of the darkness on the left, licking at the base of the cumulonimbus which glowed emberbright like a sunset.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Below that the blackness seemed to open up into a wide expanse of stars, the barest hint of a distant green-blue felt simultaneously like nebulae or oceans and he wasn’t sure if it was the vastness of space itself, or the reflection of it on still waters.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It felt like a story he’d never heard before, yet all at once terribly, intimately familiar. He read it from top to bottom. But he read it going up too. Couldn't seem to stop reading it.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Crowley?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeeeahhh, jusss ' minute, Angel,” he mumbled, waving Aziraphale’s fretful hands away. “I don’ understand.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s beautiful, Crowley,” Aziraphale sighed. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“But… it’s not...</span>
  <em>
    <span>I’m...not…”</span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The easiest explanation was that Thea had decided to pretty it up to spare his feelings. It would explain why a two day assignment had taken absolute yonks. It was one thing for her to paint for other humans, who spent their short existence living for fairly meaningless frippery. She couldn’t fathom something like...whatever he was.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But…</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He took a step back, entranced, and nearly tripped over the coffee table. Aziraphale caught his arm and guided him to the seat opposite the couch. He barely registered any of it.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you all right, dear?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yyeahh yeah,” he assured the angel faintly, but truthfully — </span>
  <em>
    <span>ugh, truthfully?</span>
  </em>
  <span> — he really wasn’t sure.  This was making him feel bloody weird actually. This wasn’t what a demon’s aura-energy-soul should look like, right? He felt like he was sinking into some complexity he’d never noticed before and something like peace (it wasn’t peace though. He’d never know peace, but something like peace) started to move through him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Very professional of her to wrap it for you,” Aziraphale was saying from lightyears away where his fingers still brushed the back of Crowley’s neck.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, and she included an invoice!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>She bloody WOT?!”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Crowley roared, jumping to his feet and rounding on the angel. “I let her live here rent fucking free AND gave her a studio not to mention all the bloody supplies and she wants to be PAID? I never even asked for the thing! And it is weeks late!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Aziraphale ignored him, calmly opening the envelope and smiling at the letter. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I would make the payment in your stead, dearest, as you’re correct that I’m the one who commissioned the work...however…” he handed over the invoice and Crowley snatched it up, livid.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I hope that this piece meets your expectations. Your patience has been appreciated. The subject was difficult (and often unconscious) so the work took longer than expected. The artist will accept payment for her work in the form of </span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>one (1) Crowley Scarf</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span> to be delivered within 5 business days of the client receiving finished artwork.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Crowley’s ire evaporated in a puff of fondness. It was downright offensive. “That shit,” he groused, trying to squash an unwelcome and completely autonomous smile. “She’s out on her arse first thing tomorrow, you tell her that.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course, dear,” Aziraphale patted his shoulder then handed him the shopping list before leaving. Crowley absently pocketed the list, settling back into the seat, his gaze sweeping over the multitude of stars, the glowing clouds. A horribly weak sound wobbled up his throat and he swallowed it down, glancing nervously at the door to be sure Aziraphale had left before the sound bubbled up again and the demon moaned something between sorrow and serenity, gazing at a reflection of himself that wasn’t anything like he’d feared.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
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  <br/>
  <br/>
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  <br/>
  <br/>
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  <br/>
  <br/>
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</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I’ve mapped out the final chapters of The Unforeseen, and HOLY SHIT, there’s gonna be a sequel. I’m having too much fun with Thea, and I really want to see these two idiots get their shit together. Maybe an engagement?</p>
<p>Also I’m planning to start up Carpe Demon soon with a pilot fic so keep your eyes peeled for that.</p>
<p>As always, Please continue to yell at me in the comments.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Come Rest A Bit</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Who could have imagined there might be consequences for unloading 6,000 years worth of anxiety, hurt, and anger (Aziraphale) and 6,000 years worth of anxiety, guilt, and fear (Crowley) right over top of an Empath's flat? Certainly not these two ineffable idiots.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This Chapter nearly killed me. It has been rewritten so many fricken times. I don't even know what to CW for anymore.<br/>This is a big one. Proceed with caution. Smut, (and the fluffiest thing I've ever written) is at the end as a reward for making it past the gauntlet. </p><p>Also, check out the incredibly obvious tie in to the upcoming Carpe Demon series and get hyped!</p><p> </p><p>As always, Big love to PinkPenguinParade for holding my hand through my chapter anxiety.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>
  <em> I can't say a true thing </em>
</p><p>
  <em> It's hard to be that honest </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I know you're not asking </em>
</p><p>
  <em> But I told you that I promised </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> There's always two thoughts </em>
</p><p>
  <em> One after the other: </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I'm alone </em>
</p><p>
  <em> No you're not </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I'm alone </em>
</p><p>
  <em>No you're not </em>
</p><p> </p><p><span class="u"> <em> Honest </em> </span> <em> by Joseph </em></p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>The door opened after the sixth knock and Aziraphale barely caught a glimpse of tired mismatched eyes and paint-splattered cheeks before Thea had turned on her heel and hidden behind another canvas. He hesitated in the corridor, confused by the frosty absence of polite greeting. Clearly his and Crowley’s boisterous faux pas last night had cost the girl some precious sleep and that thought made Aziraphale feel horrid.</p><p> </p><p>“All right, my dear?” he asked nervously, coming into the quiet flat. </p><p> </p><p>“Mmn,” she muttered, already absorbed in her work. </p><p> </p><p>“I understand we owe you an apology, my girl,” he ventured, fiddling with his pocket watch and already feeling his cheeks flush with humiliation. Thea shifted slightly, peeking a grey eye around the canvas at him. “Ahem, the...noise last night was… ” he gave a nervous cough, “well, I’m sorry to disturb you. I assure you we’ll take measures to prevent further er... tumult.”</p><p> </p><p>“Ok,” she shrugged, and went back to her work. Aziraphale watched her nervously, finding the silence oppressive when he suddenly was aware of what was missing.</p><p> </p><p>“Not working with music today?” he asked, strolling over to where Roan was sleeping on the rug and scratching the fox’s ear. She gave a muffled squeak and snoozed on. He smiled and took a seat on the couch, summoning his legal pad of notes. “I’m not sure it would make you feel any better to know that our night was also rather difficult. It seems that— you may laugh— I had some unresolved anger and Crowley suggested I talk it out and I’m afraid I may have mentally scarred the poor demon.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah?” said the canvas.</p><p> </p><p>“Well, you know Crowley,” Aziraphale sighed. “Always looking for something to go wrong. Did you know that he is dead certain that I am going to abandon him? He’s convinced of it, no matter what I say!” He shook his head ruefully. “I honestly am beginning to wonder if I shouldn’t be worried about <em> him </em> doing that to <em> me </em>.”</p><p> </p><p>“You don’t trust him?”</p><p> </p><p>“Of course I trust Crowley,” Aziraphale insisted, springing to his feet again. He moved to the kitchen to make some tea. “I have always trusted Crowley in many ways, though not as much as I should have, perhaps, in the past. Despite the cool exterior he really is a very sweet, caring creature.” </p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale busied himself with filling the kettle and puttering around to make a pick plate for Thea. From the look of it she had been working for hours and it was still early morning. He knew she hadn’t eaten. <em> Artists. Apt to collapse from a deadly case of The Muse. </em></p><p> </p><p>“I trust Crowley,” he repeated firmly. “I don’t think he’d ever try to <em> hurt </em>me. The trouble would be if he managed to convince himself that I was somehow better off without him. That’s what worries me. He says the most horrendous things to himself, and in the past he’s had these troubling bouts of dark depression and he—" Aziraphale cut off abruptly before he shared too much. Crowley would not thank him for telling Thea about the times the angel caught him tearing the flesh of his arms in a rage of self loathing, or sprawled, glassy-eyed and motionless in a drug-induced delirium. At his worst, Crowley was always worse to himself. </p><p> </p><p>“Well,” he continued, getting back on track. “It isn’t always easy to find him when he runs off, and if he truly didn’t wish to be found, or if something were to happen to him while he was off on some fool mission to protect me from him…” Aziraphale’s voice broke. He took a shaky breath, arranging some cut fruit and cheeses on a plate. “I don’t know what I would do without him, I’m afraid. What does one do when the only other creature in existence who truly knows them vanishes from their life?”</p><p> </p><p>“Dunno for sure,” Thea answered. “But I believe the done thing is to run away to Britain and get caught up in some bullshit celestial soap opera.” </p><p> </p><p>“Oh no, my dear!” Aziraphale very nearly dropped the plate on the floor and instead sent a mix of strawberry, grapes and old Welsh cheddar spilling onto the countertop. What an atrocious thing for him to have complained about in front of a girl still mourning her lost love. “I am dreadfully sorry, Thea. Truly!” he exclaimed. </p><p> </p><p>“Mmn,” said the canvas, but this time Aziraphale was paying attention, acutely scrutinizing details, assessing the root of the problem, because <em> goodness, </em> there was, in fact, a problem and he’d blundered right past it unawares. Rubbish angel indeed, but no time to dwell on that now. Assess the situation and decide if his function as Guide, Healer, or Guardian was needed.</p><p> </p><ol>
<li>Thea was withdrawn and sounding suspiciously like Crowley which was really only charming on the demon (and sometimes not even then.)</li>
<li>The flat was a mess. Thea was usually rather tidy, but there were half eaten slices of pizza in three separate places, and smudges of paint on the walls and furniture. </li>
<li>Too many bottles of alcohol were out to be explained away by overhearing a few minutes of obnoxiously loud lovemaking from the flat above. Thea had never struck Aziraphale as being the pearl-clutching type. This was something else.</li>
<li>Roan was still asleep and hadn’t woken up since he’d arrived. A gentle nudge against her furry rump confirmed that it wasn’t a natural sleep.</li>
</ol><p> </p><p>“Thea?” Aziraphale called to her gently, “Did something else happen last night?” The only response was muttered so low he didn’t catch it. He drew himself up and marched over into the “studio” half of the room, refusing to allow her to hide behind the canvas any longer. </p><p> </p><p>“Thea, if something has happened then I must insist that you tell me everyth— “ he cut off abruptly when he saw what she was working on. </p><p> </p><p>A towering spiral of flames against a harsh white background, and below that a darkened space occupied by a single subject, a bathtub, shadows stretching out below the fire. The cold menace in the painting was palpable and Aziraphale physically recoiled.</p><p> </p><p>“You don’t like it?” Thea muttered, her brush never stopping its work. “Can’t say I’m surprised. I <em> hate </em>it, personally, but it's better than seeing it behind my eyes so this is what I do.”</p><p> </p><p>“You’ve seen this?” Aziraphale gasped. “This is how Heaven and Hell planned to —”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, Aziraphale,” Thea snapped. “It’s pretty clear.”</p><p> </p><p>“Thea, please,” Aziraphale gently reached for her shoulder. “Just stop a moment, dear, and speak to me.”</p><p> </p><p>“Ugh! Why?” She shook him off. “What does anything I have to say matter?” Aziraphale shook his head, confused. “Look, it's fine, ok? I get it. Just do what you have to do and mend your shit with Crowley. I’ll be fine.”</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale laughed incredulously. She wouldn’t be fine at all. “My dear. You are being hunted by some rather powerful creatures. I honestly don’t think you’d be fine at all. Now kindly put down your brush and talk to me.”</p><p> </p><p>“Humans <em> die </em>, Aziraphale,” she shrugged. “It's what we’re born to do.”</p><p> </p><p>He felt cold. This wasn’t like Thea at all. Admitting defeat? Pushing her support away? No. He wouldn’t stand for it. Guardian mode it was, then. </p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale snatched the brush out of her hand, and sent it to the sink with a thought. She grit her teeth and faced him, finally, her eyes furious. Now that her hands were free she wrapped her fingers in the hem of her tee shirt, yanking on it exactly as he did to his waistcoat when he felt overcome. Something odd was definitely afoot and Aziraphale would be damned if he wouldn’t pry it out of her.</p><p> </p><p>“Tell me,” he demanded.</p><p> </p><p>“You want to know what’s up? Fine. Let’s talk about Thea’s fun adventure so far,” she growled. “I find out that angels and demons are <em> real </em> and that they are fucking with me and I’m going to die, and then you two leave me alone,” Thea snapped. “ <em> Then </em> I find out I have <em> lightning power </em> s, the demon I think is going to help me <em> attacks </em>me instead and sure, you stick around for a while, but Crowley wakes up and you fucking leave me alone.” </p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale really didn’t like where this was going, but he bit his lip and kept himself from interrupting. </p><p> </p><p>“I spend a night in a cold basement where I get<em> a psychic bond to a fucking fox </em> , nearly <em> kill the aforementioned helpful demon </em> , and y <em> ou fucking leave me alone! </em>” she cried, turning away now and snatching up a pot of titanium white acrylic. To Aziraphale’s surprise she upended the contents onto the canvas and smeared it across the minacious images, blotting them out with the palm of her hand. </p><p> </p><p>“I nearly get knocked unconsciousss by the sheer fucking magnitude of another demon’s hatred, have another minor altercation with the archangel who’s not so ssslowly<em> killing me </em>, learn that the time I have left is likely a lot less than the miserable amount I thought I had.” </p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale blinked, noting the slight Crowley-like hiss as she became more animated. “And <em> guess what? </em> You leave me the fuck alone! So what came next? Right! Hellfire test. Excellent fun, right? Except whoops! it turns out my hand getsss all <em> black </em> and I have <em> claws </em> I didn’t know about and maybe I might have sssome feelings about that but who can I talk to about it? <em> Not you or Crowley because you left me alone! </em>” Here Thea grabbed the canvas from the easel and flung it across the room where it collided against the kitchen counter with a crash.</p><p> </p><p>“And I get that you and Crowley have your own shit to figure out, Aziraphale. I really do. You have my utmost sssympathy that relationships are hard and trauma’s <em> traumatic </em> . But here's the other thing. You and Crowley both fucking know that I am an untrained fucking <em> Empath </em> and yet you thought it would a great plan to unload 6,000 years worth of anger and resentment and pain and guilt and loss right above my head!”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Oh no! </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Thea’s face was awash with tears now, her pale lips twisted in an agonizing grimace. “Everything you felt about what you went through. Everything Crowley felt about it. Right into my ssstupid primitive small human brain! I spent the night wanting to scream! I tried to call Crowley to beg him to stop but he wouldn’t answer! I drank it dull and now I paint it to get it hell out of my brain!”</p><p> </p><p>Thea took a shaky breath, and Aziraphale recognized the motion of reaching for a sense of calm. She ran her hands through her hair, leaving streaks of white twisting into the layers of chestnut and gold. She bit her lip, an exact mirror of the way Aziraphale was currently worrying his own, only Thea’s bite broke skin, leaving a pink smear across her top teeth.</p><p> </p><p>“So…” she whispered finally. “That was my night, Aziraphale. Now why don’t you do what you do best and <em> leave me the fuck alone? </em>”</p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p> </p><p>Crowley stalked the painting on the couch, slowly slinking around the room to glare at it from different angles. </p><p> </p><p>“All right you,” he hissed at it. “Wot’sss yer deal?”</p><p> </p><p>The painting continued to stubbornly hold its secrets, but Crowley knew there had to be a catch. There was meaning behind it that he was missing. The condemnation he’d been expecting <em> had </em> to be there somewhere in all those blended brushstrokes. He’d tease it out eventually. </p><p> </p><p>He dropped into the seat across the picture again and drew his knees up, elbows looped loosely around his ankles in a way that would require a human to rapidly be in need of a chiropractor. The painting stared back at him, completely unthreatened. </p><p> </p><p>Crowley was just starting to consider the possibility that the condemnation wasn’t <em> actually </em>there, then a spoon collided with the canvas, ricocheting off the corner and skittering to a stop under a plant stand. </p><p> </p><p>“GNnnn,” he muttered. “S’not a good sign.” </p><p> </p><p>Suddenly the ceiling clanged with a metallic cacophony and Crowley was bombarded with what could easily have been over six hundred spoons all at once. He froze in his pretzel of limbs, perched on his seat, wide-eyed and somewhat covered in flatware but mostly uninjured. When no further attack seemed forthcoming, he unwound himself and straightened his glasses, staring at the mess in his sitting room with wary befuddlement. Spoon central this was. Everything from a tiny silver egg spoon to a large aluminum soup ladle. His phone dinged a reminder, and he swiped it open seeing a missed call and voicemail from shortly after midnight last night. </p><p> </p><p>Not believing in coincidences anymore, he tapped the voicemail on speaker, still surveying the cutlery disaster with mounting apprehension.</p><p> </p><p>Thea’s voice sounded over the speaker, cracking with panic and what sounded like pain. “Crowley please. Whatever you two are doing, you have to stop! It’s killing me, just— “ the sound of something being knocked over or, maybe she fell? Roan barked in the background. “Please stop! &lt;Beep&gt; <em> To play this message again please press— </em> “</p><p> </p><p>Crowley deleted the message immediately out of a long habit of covering his tracks. His blood ran cold, freezing his muscles almost painfully as he hunched over the phone. Midnight. He was a trapped snake, no pockets, no <em> phone-filled </em> pocket with quacking ringtone to warn him.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> You have to stop. It’s killing me. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>What was? Who was? It wasn’t him, not this time. And <em> Oh Shit! </em> Aziraphale! Aziraphale had gone down to see her, to see what had come of her after whatever this was.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> It's killing me. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>His angel was alone with her, with a potentially injured, terrified, not-quite-human lightning storm.</p><p> </p><p>Crowley was at the angel’s side before he could even snap. The flat felt eerie to him now, quiet and grey in the watery light from the rain soaked windows. Aziraphale grabbed him around the waist in a crushing embrace, burying his wet blue eyes against the layered black of the demon's chest. Crowley scanned the room for danger. There were signs of a possible struggle. Paint on the walls, a cracked canvas on the floor smearing more paint onto the concrete. The fox was laying by the coffee table, unnaturally still. Dead? Where was Thea?</p><p> </p><p>“Where is she?” </p><p> </p><p>“Her room,” Aziraphale sniffed. “It’s awful, Crowley. She felt it, everything the two of us were processing all night. We emptied it all right on top of her, darling. She’s sick with it. She…” Aziraphale looked up at him, completely gutted.</p><p> </p><p>“What happened, Angel?” he demanded, quickly edging into panic.</p><p> </p><p>“She <em> shouted </em>at me!” Aziraphale cried, throwing up his hands in despair and completely derailing Crowley’s adrenaline high.</p><p> </p><p>“She...shouted at you?” </p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale sighed forlornly and Crowley’s panic started to flicker into more familiar tones of anger. “Start making sense, Angel,” he snapped. “Is she all right or no?”</p><p> </p><p>“She’s extremely angry,” Aziraphale responded, “At the two of us, although more me, I suspect. And I’m not sure if she’s all right, to be honest. She isn’t acting like herself, she hasn’t slept, and Roan is exhausted.” Here he gestured toward the ruddy animal on the rug and Crowley felt his first ever regret that it wasn’t making more noise.</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t know how much damage we may have inflicted on her, I’m afraid,” Aziraphale lamented. “I pressed her and she snapped. She retreated to her bedroom and locked the door.”</p><p> </p><p>“Pffff, not a locked door, you say?” Crowley sneered, wrapping himself in his sarcastic armour. “Well, let’s go see what we’re dealing with then, shall we?” He stalked down the hall to the master bedroom and hammered on the door.</p><p> </p><p>“Oi!” he shouted. “You awake in there? Get your arse out here right now so we can look at your fucking brain!”</p><p> </p><p>“Eat shit, Crowley!” came the vicious reply and the demon was actually taken aback by the fury in it. Aziraphale joined him, gently touching his shoulder.</p><p> </p><p>“She seems to be exhibiting some of our mannerisms as well,” he whispered. “She echoed my body language and she’s adopted your...vocalizations.”</p><p> </p><p>“Nnaah, she’s always had a mouth,” Crowley argued, pounding on the door again before turning back to the angel as he waited for a response. “Anything spoon related happen down here?” he asked. Aziraphale shook his head. “Well, you should see my sitting room!” Crowley chuckled with exaggerated levity. “I was just on the receiving end of a barrage of spoons and it was...<em> an experience </em>.”</p><p> </p><p>He grinned at Aziraphale, but the angel only seemed <em> more </em>upset. All this misery over being yelled at? Obviously they were more in Crowley’s department then, and that was fine. He’d been waiting for an opportunity to fix something for the angel. </p><p> </p><p>Squaring off with the bedroom door, Crowley took a deep focusing breath, shutting out the fussing beside him and narrowing his attention to the thrum of angry chaotic energy before him. He connected to it much faster and far more deeply than he intended and suddenly everything else dropped away. Reality narrowed, telescoping to just the demon and the chaos inside this room.</p><p> </p><p>He understood… <em> He understands. </em></p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Crowley has come to understand anger pretty well. He’s still bowled over by his own, sure, and Aziraphale’s utterly terrifies him, but generally speaking, he’s pretty well read on every volume of rage from petty to righteous so maybe that’s why this shit doesn’t phase him. He snaps and the door between him and his charge vanishes. Thea is pale and her eyes are wild with hurt and he’s seen those eyes again and again over centuries buried in centuries. She rears up. She hisses. He knows exactly the too-much-of-it-all poisoning her veins. He snaps again and her eyes drift shut, she lists helplessly, struggling against the suggestion, and that is new, but he’s stronger, a demon, and she’s still mostly human. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “Gnn...no,” Thea mutters in denial, stumbling forward into Crowley’s waiting arms.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “Yeah,” he comforts her, “Sorry, luv,” he murmurs into her paint-stuck hair. “Thassit. Come rest a bit. I’ve got you.” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Crowley!” Aziraphale barked behind him. </p><p> </p><p>The angel’s voice held that tone of outrage and authority that always made the demon’s spine snap straight. Reality widened once more and Crowley turned slowly, hefting the sleeping girl in his arms. He soundly turned the tables by silencing the angel with a curt growl and set Thea down on the bed, summoned her fuzzy blue blanket from the couch, and pulled it over her shoulders.</p><p> </p><p>“Get the vermin,” he ordered Aziraphale, keeping his voice pitched low. Aziraphale made an indignant sound and stormed down the hall, returning a moment later with the fox in his arms. “Put it down here. With her.” Aziraphale did, and the fox squirmed in its sleep, curling against Thea’s hip before settling again. </p><p> </p><p>Crowley inspected the girl, checking that she was fully under before he cleared her hair and skin of paint, tears, and sweat and left her as clean and comfortable as a demon could. He switched his gaze back to Aziraphale, who was twitching nervously by the bedside, his expression vacillating between concern and annoyance.</p><p> </p><p>“Let’s go,” Crowley whispered before he spun on his heel and left the room. He made it as far as the sitting room before the angel’s iron grip caught his shoulder and redirected his movement into the kitchen counter. He connected hard with his hip and winced. Aziraphale had settled on annoyance then.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m flattered, Angel,” Crowley teased. “But I’m really not in the mood right now.”</p><p> </p><p>“We are <em> not </em> leaving her,” Aziraphale rebuked.</p><p> </p><p>“Not before we clean this place up, no,” Crowley agreed, looking around the flat. “Best not do it the human way either. Get it done quick so we can go.” He raised his hand to snap but Aziraphale caught his fingers and held fast.</p><p> </p><p>“We abandoned her,” Azirphale glowered, causing Crowley to hesitate before snapping his next infernal miracle. “Everytime something dreadful happened to her, we soon became swept up in our own affairs, our own...affair,” he continued, his voice edged with guilt. “And she’s been alone, each time, without our guidance and now she’s been greatly harmed by our thoughtlessness.”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley sighed and managed not to roll his eyes, but it took considerable force of will. He pried his fingers from Aziraphale’s grip and snapped the flat back into order. When Aziraphale decided to take that as an act of rebellion against his seeming need to self-flagellate, Crowley pulled him into a tight hug and kissed his hair.</p><p> </p><p>“Just lemme explain, Angel,” he murmured. “Then we’ll do whatever you wanna do, all right?”</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale nodded, head buried against his shoulder. Crowley gently trailed his fingers up and down the angel’s back as he spoke.</p><p> </p><p>“Right, so. You’re not exactly used to hurting people, so I get that you’re spinning out here,” he teased gently. “But I’m an expert at hurting people, and I’ve come to be pretty familiar about what happens next. We don’t get to force her to be all right with our mistakes. We have to give her some space.”</p><p> </p><p>“Crowley no!” Aziraphale argued, pulling back, pulling away. “That’s the last thing she needs, didn’t you hear me?”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not suggesting we leave her for weeks, Angel,” Crowley snapped. “Hours maybe. She’s going to be sleeping anyway. She was out of her bloody skull with exhaustion!” Aziraphale wrung his hands, looking wretched. “We’ll just step out for a bit and let her rest,” Crowley suggested soothingly. “We could pick up the shopping you mentioned, or visit the bookshop and make sure it hasn’t burned down again.”</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale’s worried eyes lit up at the mention of the shop. “I <em> would </em> like to stop by the shop,” he admitted. “I’ve been expecting a few parcels to be delivered and they must have been by now.”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley started to ask why the heaven the angel hadn’t had them sent to Mayfair, but decided against the question. “Bookshop it is then, and we’ll be back before she wakes up.”</p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p> </p><p>It had stopped raining by the time they left the building. Aziraphale had insisted on warding Crowley’s flat to dampen any further empathic bleeds. Crowley decided he might as well soundproof a few key rooms while he waited. He grinned to himself, hoping they’d get a chance to test it out soon.</p><p> </p><p>Once they were finished, they decided to walk to Soho. Well, Crowley suggested it, figuring Aziraphale could do for some fresh air and light exercise. Walking seemed to help the angel relax. Crowley was always inviting him out on walks. <em> Shit. I’ve loved him longer than I thought. </em></p><p> </p><p>Soho was packed, despite the downpour earlier. Soho was rarely anything else. The thrum of activity pulled at Crowley’s attention and he began his circling, eyes darting around for possible threats, ready to grab Aziraphale and duck, dart, flee, fight.</p><p> </p><p>He wasn’t expecting the angel to suddenly stop dead in his tracks, a solid immovable object on the kerb outside the shop. Crowley had been casting a suspicious look at a group of youths over his shoulder when he collided with Aziraphale like an Anathema versus a Bentley.</p><p> </p><p>“Ow. Wot?”</p><p> </p><p>“They’re not here,” Aziraphale uttered, concerned. “The package ought to have arrived by now. No one would have stolen it.”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley shrugged, not knowing enough about the mysterious package to have much of an opinion either way, except that its absence was distressing Aziraphale and that was bad. </p><p> </p><p>“Mr. Fell!” </p><p> </p><p>They both turned at the excited greeting as the florist who owned the shop next door, a plump middle aged woman, (with an annoying tendency to flirt with Aziraphale) joined them. Crowley slouched into a menacing semi-circle. The woman didn’t even seem to notice him.</p><p> </p><p>“How are you, Mz. Barker?” Aziraphale answered, smiling warmly. They chatted pleasantly, as if they weren’t on a misty kerb with a demon who was already plotting mischief. </p><p> </p><p>“I rescued your post for you, Mr. Fell,” the woman warbled. Aziraphale looked elated. “Can you believe they left it outside the door!” she continued aghast. “I gathered it before it could get pinched. I wasn’t sure when you’d be back in so, I hope you don’t mind.”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley narrowed his eyes. Inside the flower shop the gladioli were turning themselves inside out.</p><p> </p><p>“Not at all,” Aziraphale smiled, looking greatly relieved. “You have my gratitude, Mz. Barker. I’ve been expecting something very important.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll fetch it for you,” she murmured, blushing. Aziraphale thanked her again and she hurried back into her shop. Crowley loomed over the angel smirking.</p><p> </p><p>“She fancies you,” he teased, pretending not to be jealous.</p><p> </p><p>“A harmless little crush,” Aziraphale sniffed dismissively as he unlocked the shop door.</p><p> </p><p>The woman reappeared with a large, though clearly lightweight box, handing it over with a blushing smile. Crowley intercepted the package, plucking it out of her hands with a (toothier) smile of his own. </p><p> </p><p>“Lemme get that for you, Angel,” Crowley drawled, shifting the box against his hip and planting a chaste kiss against Aziraphale’s temple.</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale thanked her again and followed Crowley into the shop.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re insufferable,” the angel told him, smirking. “I cannot believe that you’re <em> jealous </em>.”</p><p> </p><p>“What’s in the box, Angel?” Crowley deflected, setting the curious box on the counter.</p><p> </p><p>“Really. Should <em> I </em> act possessive everytime someone flirts with <em> you? </em>”</p><p> </p><p>“Mmm,” Crowley smiled. “I need to think that over.” A possessive Aziraphale had...possibilities, but Crowley’s curiosity was nearing its flashpoint.</p><p> </p><p>“Angel,” he poked the package again.  “Wot's. In. the. Box?”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh!” Aziraphale grinned and hurried to join him. Crowley hummed contentedly, draping himself over the angel’s back and nuzzling into his neck. Aziraphale quickly unwrapped the package as he spoke.</p><p> </p><p>“Back when we first began our little game I went to Tadfield to get some advice.”</p><p> </p><p>“The pit trap, yes,” Crowley growled playfully against Aziraphale’s throat, earning a shrill giggle. “I recall.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, well, I also had tea with our friend, Ms. Device,” he smiled. “And I may have mentioned how much I enjoyed the game and wouldn’t mind playing it on a … grander scale. She mentioned she could whip up a dowsing artifact to assist me.”</p><p> </p><p>“Hhenng?”</p><p> </p><p>“We were retired at the time,” Aziraphale explained. “We didn’t know about Thea yet, and the world was at our disposal so…” the angel opened the box and pulled out a sepia coloured globe. He set it down on the counter carefully, before pulling a folded letter out of the box as well. “So when all of this is settled, this globe will tell me where you’ve run off to.”</p><p> </p><p>“First of all,” Crowley snorted. “How’s it do that? Secondly, <em> thas’ cheating </em>. Thirdly, when can we start?”</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale laughed. “It will have to be attuned to you, dear. Ms. Device has given instructions. Secondly, it is hardly cheating, you fiend. You have a world to hide in. This will tell me a country, and area to start looking. Otherwise it could take decades to find you…” Aziraphale turned slowly in the circle of Crowley’s arms to run a soft hand lightly over the demon’s black-clad chest. “And I didn’t think either of us would want to wait that long.” Crowley shivered in anticipation, imagining being caught by the angel in Tuscany, in Rio, in Tokyo, in San Jose. </p><p> </p><p>“I didn’t know, at the time, what would happen between us,” Aziraphale continued, trailing his hands lower, lower, drawing a whine from Crowley’s throat. “But I knew I found the chase to be thrilling. I thought it was just boredom, but of course, <em> now </em> I know better.”</p><p> </p><p>“We both do,” Crowley groaned when the angel’s hands stopped their progress above his hips. </p><p> </p><p>"As to when we can begin…" Aziraphale's voice sounded sadder now. "I shouldn't think it will be anytime soon, I'm afraid."</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale cleared his throat and turned back to the counter to retrieve the note that came with the globe. Crowley dropped his arms to his side's, sensing the change in mood with a cold jab of rejection. </p><p> </p><p>"All right?" He asked, unsure what had changed. Aziraphale didn't answer, reading the letter instead. Crowley glared at the back of the angel's fuzzy head for a moment then spun and stalked into the back room where he could at least flop on the familiar couch while Aziraphale ignored him.</p><p> </p><p>It was fifteen minutes or more before the angel finally joined him, carrying in the globe and the letter.</p><p> </p><p>"The ritual is pretty straight forward. The only thing to do is to recite your name and give a drop of blood to prove that you agree to… you know… be tracked. I suppose Ms. Device may have been concerned that I was trying to keep tabs on you without your knowledge or consent.”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley snorted. Smart witch. He watched the angel out of the corner of his eye, still feeling the itch of rejection and not understanding why. </p><p> </p><p>"What do you want me to do?" he grumbled, taking the globe when Aziraphale moved it toward him. He wasn't asking about the ritual but that's the answer he got.</p><p> </p><p>"Ah… well. Do you? Consent, that is?"</p><p> </p><p>"To you being able to track me down wherever I run to?" Crowley arched an eyebrow. "Wot's the limitations here, Angel? Like does it only track me during the game or is it on all the time? Gimme the details."</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale's face fell. "Oh dear. She didn't specify."</p><p> </p><p>"Dodgy," Crowley teased. "Did you not think to ask? Did you think<em> I </em>wouldn't ask? I'm a demon, for hell's sake! I know a thing or two about shifty contracts."</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale flushed deep red. "Obviously I didn't intend to infringe on your privacy, Crowley. I already explained the point of the globe," he griped, resentfully. "I'll send a letter back asking for clarification."</p><p> </p><p>Crowley rolled his eyes. "You mad that I'd ask questions ‘bout this, Angel?"</p><p> </p><p>"No," Aziraphale grumbled, sounding very mad about it. "It’s a fair question. I'm just annoyed at the inconvenience. I was actually quite excited about this and now I feel rather horrible about the whole thing."</p><p> </p><p>"Pfff. Why?" Crowley growled.</p><p> </p><p>"Well, you seem to think I'm trying to trick you, for one thing. You called it a <em> shifty contract. </em>"</p><p> </p><p>"It is! It's super dodgy," Crowley laughed but his sniggering died when Aziraphale looked greatly insulted. <em> Too </em> insulted. Crowley stared at him, suddenly realizing that the angel was, at least on some level, disappointed that Crowley had figured this out. He <em> wanted </em>to be able to track him outside of the game.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> How many times did he say it, even just last night? He can’t have me running off where he can’t follow. He doesn’t trust me not to hide from him. Hell, I don’t trust me not to hide from him. Snookered myself in a fucking devil’s trap to avoid it, didn’t I? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>"Look," he tried to appease the angel. “You’re upset. We can talk about it later, yeah? You don’t have to —”</p><p> </p><p>“Of course I’m upset, Crowley!” Aziraphale cried. “I’m quite overwhelmed! I never should have lost control of my anger. I’ve been so absorbed in <em> this, </em>” he gestured between the two of them, “that I forgot my duty to Thea, and now I’ve let you tempt me into leaving her again! Lord, I truly am a pathetic excuse for an angel!”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley rolled his eyes. "She's asleep, and you were just going to fuss up and make yourself miserable if you stayed."</p><p> </p><p>"Make <em> you </em> miserable, I suspect," Aziraphale replied icily. "You could just admit you were bored and selfish."</p><p> </p><p>Crowley stared at the angel, knowing his lips were pressed in a thin bloodless line but unable to reach for his usual sneer. It had been a long morning, and a longer night before that and he was exhausted. Aziraphale hadn't eaten yet and he was probably exhausted too. Neither of them were at their best.</p><p> </p><p>The <em> sensible </em>thing to do would be to agree to go back to Mayfair and order in some lunch. Aziraphale could eat and wait for Thea to wake and Crowley could nap on her couch. He shrugged and sighed in defeat, opening his mouth to suggest just that when— </p><p> </p><p>"I shouldn't be surprised. You don't give a toss about her, after all," Aziraphale growled, running a hand angrily through his curls. "She’s just a problem that shouldn't be on your plate, yes? Something I roped you into?"</p><p> </p><p>Crowley was on his feet, ready to shove Aziraphale into a bookshelf with a fist twisted in his stupid bloody bowtie and a snarl grazing his fangs against the soft throat. He caught himself at the last minute and pivoted away. He glared spitefully instead, growling and hissing and stalking the room in a fury. Aziraphale straightened his posture in challenge, his eyes cold.</p><p> </p><p>"I was <em> this close </em> to doing the mature thing, you know," Crowley hissed, waving a hand with his thumb and forefinger nearly touching. "Then you had to go be a complete arse. Well fine. If all I am is the bored selfish demon who doesn't care about anyone else…" he stalked over to the globe, twisting his raised wrist and manifesting his long dark claws with a dramatic flourish. Aziraphale's eyes went wide with trepidation and he squeaked as he moved to protect the artifact. Crowley was faster, and raked a claw deep across his other palm. Aziraphale froze, watching the dark red-black blood pool in Crowley's hand.</p><p> </p><p>"What on Earth are you—"</p><p> </p><p>"Anthony J. Crowley," the demon intoned dramatically before smearing the blood across the globe. He gave it a spin then gave his bloody palm an obscene lick, the flesh knit together under his tongue. The tease was lost on Aziraphale who was frowning intensely at the globe. The dark smear sank into the globe and as soon as the spinning stopped, there was a point of burning light over London, glowing orange like an ember.</p><p> </p><p>“Ah,” Crowley smirked. “Works all right, then.”</p><p> </p><p>“You absolute fool,” Aziraphale whispered. “Why in God’s Holy name would you do that!”</p><p> </p><p>“Because it doesn’t matter to me, Aziraphale!” Crowley growled. “There isn’t a single good reason I’d need to hide from you. I’d always want you to find me.” The demon snapped his fingers then, miracling a delivery order from one of Azirpahale’s favourite Thai restaurants.</p><p> </p><p>“Lunch is on the way,” he grumbled. Another snap and half the contents of the back bookshelves deposited themselves in neat stacks on the floor. “And you have a few hours of reorganizing ahead of you, so I’ll just piss off and leave you to it.”</p><p> </p><p>“Crowley!” Aziraphale cried in outrage, but Crowley was done with this conversation. </p><p> </p><p>“I’m going back to keep an eye on the bloody whelp!” he shouted. “You need to eat something and I need at least an hour or so to not be yelled at. Just take the bloody win, Aziraphale."</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale looked a bit ashamed then, so Crowley knew he'd at least been heard. He stalked to the front door, ignoring the angel’s protest until he was tugged to a halt, Aziraphale’s hand around his wrist. He curled his lip, glaring at the angel though his glasses, before he was pulled into an almost crushing embrace.</p><p> </p><p> “You promised me I wouldn’t have to chase you today, you insolent serpent.”</p><p> </p><p>“I literally just ensured you’d always be able to find me!” Crowley objected. “And I’m not the one throwing a fit at every small thing. I’ve been trying to fucking help, but obviously helping isn’t <em> helping </em>so lemme go."</p><p> </p><p>"Not while you're still angry," Aziraphale murmured against his chest. "Not before I can apologize."</p><p> </p><p>"Eeuuugghhh don' start up," Crowley groaned, struggling in the warm circle of arms. "I don’ need any bloody ‘sorrys’, all right?” He tried to turn away from the repentant look on Aziraphale’s face, but was still held fast in a warm, soft embrace. He settled for turning his head as far as he could to the side. “You don' get to tell me I'm— " he felt his cheeks flush and he struggled through this part, forcing the words past clenched teeth. “— that I'm better than the hellspawn I've claimed t'be and then say I don' care whenever it suits you."</p><p> </p><p>There was a woosh of wind and a couple squawks of alarm from the pedestrians on the street when the London sky opened up again with another cold downpour. Crowley had a moment where he wondered if that was from him, but nope, just Spring in England.</p><p> </p><p>"Yes, that was the part I intended to apologize for," Aziraphale smiled sheepishly. "I didn't mean it, of course you care about Thea. I just get a bit tetchy when I haven't eaten, and I feel such shame about the way we've left her in the past and aim to fix things if I can."</p><p> </p><p>"Then lemme go check on her," Crowley repeated and this time the angel released him. "Food'll be here soon. I'll... I'll talk to you later."</p><p> </p><p>He miracled himself to Thea's flat and wobbled again with another wave of exhaustion. "Shit," he grumbled. Time to start conserving his infernal powers apparently until he could get some sleep. Last thing he needed was to pass out again.</p><p> </p><p> He let himself into the flat and stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Thea lying on the floor munching on toast. "Shit," he cursed again. Thea tipped her head back to glance at him. "If Aziraphale asks, you were asleep when I got here."</p><p> </p><p>"Basically true," she answered muzzily. "Got hungry."</p><p> </p><p>"Wouldn't the couch be more comfortable?" he asked, fully coming into the flat.</p><p> </p><p>Thea shrugged and Crowley saw the spilled mug of tea by the counter and put together that the floor nap had been unexpected and sudden.</p><p> </p><p>"Can you sit up?" he asked and she shrugged again, so he nudged her with his boot. "C'mon. Let's get you up on the couch at least."</p><p> </p><p>"Nah," she munched her toast again. </p><p> </p><p>"You know you’ve got Aziraphale all in a flap?" he crouched over her like a vulture. “I told you not to take your shit out on him.”</p><p> </p><p>Thea shrugged, looking bemused. “Aziraphale was here?” Crowley squinted at her while she screwed her face up in concentration. “I’m having trouble...sorting out what’s real at the moment and my head is just pounding so if you’re gonna kill me for upsetting your boyfriend could you do it <em> quietly </em>?”</p><p> </p><p>“Satan’s flaming bollocks,” he groaned, pushing back up to standing. “Come on. Get up.”</p><p> </p><p>"You're not my real dad." She stuck her tongue out at him and Crowley snorted a laugh before quickly recovering with another glare. </p><p> </p><p>“If Aziraphale comes back and finds you on the floor he will fuss so badly he’ll give the whole block an aneurism,” Crowley explained through his teeth. This time Thea was the one to snort but she pushed herself up to sitting and let Crowley help her the rest of the way. He led her to the couch and collapsed in her usual seat once she was settled, wondering if he’d be forgiven for closing his eyes for a few minutes. They dozed in silence for an hour or so, listening to the faint patter of rain on the windows.</p><p> </p><p>“Crowley?” Thea asked weakly.</p><p> </p><p>“Hmm?”</p><p> </p><p>“What am I?”</p><p> </p><p>“A bloody nuisance.”</p><p> </p><p>Something sticky lingered on his hand, transferred from her fingers. Crowley only just noticed and grimaced, forced to clear it with a miracle because he was <em> not </em>standing again if he could help it.</p><p> </p><p>“What is this? Is this <em> peanut butter? </em> You child,” he jeered. Thea laughed at him. “Disgusting.”</p><p> </p><p>“When you write your autobiography, ‘Why I’m a Shit-Eating Monster’ by Anthony J. Crowley, please feel free to skip over the whole <em> demon </em>thing and jump directly to this blasphemy against the One True Spread.”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley did laugh then. “You’re a pip, Thea girl,” he sighed, exhausted all over again by his own mirth. “Don’t ever change.”</p><p> </p><p>“‘Fraid that’s out of my hands,” she muttered. </p><p> </p><p>Crowley nodded. It was probably out of everyone’s hands. Crowley looked at her, watched her stare up at the ceiling with what looked shockingly like hopelessness. She was probably only tired though, right? Or had absorbing all that celestial and infernal cast-off last night done as much damage as Aziraphale seemed to fear? It certainly could have. She might be ill, mad, injured in some psychic way. </p><p> </p><p>It wasn’t right. Someone with her light, her gift, shouldn’t be cursed to discorporate horribly all because a bloody archangel and the Prince of bloody Hell decided to get plastered and take their revenge on a human, hurt a human to hurt him and Aziraphale. Rotten plonkers. Well, they didn’t see <em> this </em> coming, did they?</p><p> </p><p>“Unforeseen,” Crowley stated, finally.</p><p> </p><p>“What?”</p><p> </p><p>“Tha’s what you are,” he wagged a tired finger at her. “You’re not human, that’s for damn sure, yeah? Whatever it is that you <em> are </em>, WEeellllll…” he trailed off, shrugging with his extended arm. “They’re not gonna see it coming.”</p><p> </p><p>Thea stared at him now, virtually expressionless. “Please tell me this isn’t your version of a fucking pep talk, Crowley.”</p><p> </p><p>“Wot, I thought it was good.”</p><p> </p><p>“<em> Not human </em> ? <em> Whatever </em> it is that I <em> am </em>— “</p><p> </p><p>“Now look, I’m tired, all right, and you tossed six hundred spoons at me this morning, right? So yeah, I’m standing by the whole <em> unexpected surprise </em> thing,” he snarked. Fuck. This is what he got for a bloody olive branch. “Stop askin’ me for comfort then, Thea, shit. First the bloody texts about <em> your remains </em> and now this. How the Hell am I supposed to know what you are? Nothing like YOU has happened before s’far as I know.” </p><p> </p><p>Silence. Crowley went over it in his head, wondering if he’d overdone it again. </p><p> </p><p>“You’re tired?” Thea asked finally.</p><p> </p><p>“Mnn. A bit. I do like to get my head down from time to time, and that’s not exactly happened recently.”</p><p> </p><p>“Here,” she murmured. Crowley rolled his head from where it rested on the back of the chair to look at her again. She had stretched out her arm, extending her index finger toward him.</p><p> </p><p>“If you are going to try an’ boop me right now I will eat you,” he promised.</p><p> </p><p>“Fuck off,” she mocked. “C’mon. Don’t be a coward.”</p><p> </p><p>“Terrible tempting,” he sneered. “Just awful.”</p><p> </p><p>“It will be cool,” she smirked. “I promise.”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley glanced at her finger, frowning. There was a slight current of green flicking around her fingernail. He inhaled through his mouth and scented just the smallest amount of ozone.</p><p> </p><p>“What is this?” he demanded. “A game of bloody chicken?”</p><p> </p><p>“If it is, then I’m winning, which is going to be soooo embarrassing for you, Mr. big bad demon.”</p><p> </p><p>“Shit,” Crowley grumbled. It <em> would </em> be embarrassing. “You know, if you discorporate me, Aziraphale won’t be happy ‘bout it.”</p><p> </p><p>Thea put on an exaggerated pout. “Oh! My dear girl, why did you have to go and do that?” she whinged in a fairly good impression of the angel. “He was going to show me how to order my vintage stationary off the Ebays, Thea. I really am <em> quite </em>put out.”</p><p> </p><p>“It will take an absolute age to find another immortal being to drive me everywhere and fetch my chocolates,” Crowley joined in, grinning. “I will <em> not </em>be getting behind the wheel of one of those infernal contraptions. I can tell you that.”</p><p> </p><p>They laughed companionably. It was only a little strained.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ve got this,” she assured him, glancing meaningfully to her outstretched hand. “It won’t hurt. I know what I’m doing now.”</p><p> </p><p>“It was easily six hundred spoons,” he retorted dryly, but he stretched his hand out too, hesitating very briefly before extending his own index finger, pressing the pad against hers.</p><p> </p><p>The current connected immediately, zipping up his arm, making his teeth clench. He whined.</p><p> </p><p>“Relax,” she murmured. “It’s not that bad.”</p><p> </p><p>It really wasn’t. It felt much the same as the time in the basement, without any of the theatrical lightning. The energy was swelling in his core, charging him up. He felt the Hellfire in his blood flare and the faint ache in his temples subsided in the crackle of something viridescent and alive. Thea dropped her arm, breaking their connection and the energy subsided at once, leaving him feeling refreshed. He felt like he had that morning after he first told Aziraphale how he felt. He felt like he’d just woken up from several decades of sleep.</p><p> </p><p>“That’s bloody useful,” he grinned. “Did it recharge your batteries too?” </p><p> </p><p>Thea shook her head. She didn’t look any worse for wear for having done it, but she didn’t look any better either. “Not this time. It didn’t hurt me to do it, but I think I need the lightning.”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley frowned, disappointed.</p><p> </p><p>“Where’s the mongrel?”</p><p> </p><p>“<em> Roan </em> is on the bed,” Thea responded. </p><p> </p><p>“That’s where you should be then,” Crowley stated firmly, standing again and helping Thea to her feet. He let her lean against him until he could lower her back into bed. He pulled the blanket up to her chin, ignoring her pleased smirk.</p><p> </p><p>“Thank you, Crowley.”</p><p> </p><p>“Shut it,” he responded by rote. “Go to sleep.”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley lurked about in the corridor until Thea’s breathing became slow and deep, then he returned to the kitchen to snap away the spilled tea and the mess she’d made preparing her toast.</p><p> </p><p>When his mobile started quacking and he nearly jumped out of his skin. It was the bookshop.</p><p> </p><p>"Miss me already, Angel?" he purred into the phone, dropping onto the couch.</p><p> </p><p>"I was concerned about Thea actually," Aziraphale replied, his voice wry but Crowley could hear the smile too.</p><p> </p><p>"She's asleep, right where we left her," he assured him. <em> Technically not a lie </em>. "Nothing amiss here. No new spoons or storms. Did you get your lunch?"</p><p> </p><p>"I did," Aziraphale replied. "And then Mz. Barker returned and we had tea. She went on and on about a wedding order. Something about gerberas."</p><p> </p><p>Crowley snorted. “How trite. That marriage is doomed.”</p><p> </p><p>"Really?" Aziraphale’s rich chuckle was warm even over the phone. “I’m very curious about the wedding flowers <em> you </em>would choose instead.”</p><p> </p><p>"Hmn," Crowley kicked his feet up on the coffee table and idly scratched his chin in thought.</p><p> </p><p>"I'd go with greenery, gorgeous but earthy," he said finally. “Not a fan of most flowers, me.”</p><p> </p><p>"Oh?" Aziraphale sounded more distant. "Do go on."</p><p> </p><p>He closed his eyes and pictured Aziraphale in a creamy white tuxedo. What arrangement would he hold best?</p><p> </p><p>“I could see you under an arch covered with seeded eucalyptus, rosemary, Israeli ruscus and sprengeri.”</p><p> </p><p>“That would smell divine,” Aziraphale’s voice was soft, dewy. The sort of voice that usually led to Crowley stalking off or teasing him mercilessly, but instead Crowley let himself play with the image of the angel’s wedding. Maybe it was safer over the phone. He could taste the idea of it, without the burden of having himself in the equation. Some things were still too hard to even contemplate.</p><p> </p><p>"It might be warm enough to enjoy something more rustic...a cottage by the seaside perhaps?” he mused. “Then I’d see you surrounded by garden roses, snapdragons, Queen Anne's lace…” he lightly moved his fingers through the air as if collecting the choice specimens out of his mind. “Maybe some thistle, astilbe... privet berries, star of bethlehem and... green trick dianthus…”</p><p> </p><p>“Crowley…?”</p><p> </p><p>“You’d insist on a tartan ribbon, be right intransigent about it.”</p><p> </p><p>“<em> I’m </em> intransigent? Really!?”</p><p> </p><p>“The greenery would go with it, I think.”</p><p> </p><p>“You’re getting a bit more into this lark than I intended, dear, but I like it,” Aziraphale murmured. Crowley felt a soft kiss on his forehead and snapped his eyes open. The angel smiled down at him lovingly, and Crowley blushed angrily and thrust his phone (only realizing now the call had been disconnected) back into his pocket.</p><p> </p><p>“Rude to just hang up on a person,” Crowley muttered, crossing his arms over his chest.</p><p> </p><p>“Apologies, dear,” Aziraphale cooed. Settling onto the couch beside him. “I was just struck by a powerful need to hear all this in person.”</p><p> </p><p>“Mmehhh.”</p><p> </p><p>“The cottage idea of yours sounds absolutely lovely,” Aziraphale grinned, leaning closer to run his fingers through Crowley's thick hair. </p><p> </p><p>"Oh fuck off," he sulked. "Just proving a point."</p><p> </p><p>"What point, dear?"</p><p> </p><p><em> Crowley had no idea </em>. "You're in a better mood, I see," he grumbled, changing the subject. "Food did the trick then?"</p><p> </p><p>"Yes, I feel much better now. <em> You're </em>still in a foul humour though so I assume you didn't get a nap."</p><p> </p><p>"No, but— Hherrmm..." The angel scratched at a spot on his scalp that was particularly sensitive and Crowley went boneless for a minute. "Thassnice…"</p><p> </p><p>"<em> Nice </em> , is it?" Aziraphale teased, but scratched the spot again as Crowley melted. "So <em> you're </em> allowed to say that word without getting slammed into a wall, Hmm?"</p><p> </p><p>"Hypocrisy is a fine trait for a demon," Crowley murmured blissfully. Aziraphale shifted to the far side of the couch to accommodate the demon's sprawl, setting his head down on his soft lap. The angel gently removed Crowley's glasses before returning to work massaging his scalp.</p><p> </p><p>"It is fine for other demons, perhaps," Aziraphale smiled. "You've never been much of a fan of it though." </p><p> </p><p>"Mmm."</p><p> </p><p>"Much too honourable to be lumped in with the common demonic rabble," Aziraphale added pointedly.</p><p> </p><p>Crowley's boneless sigh turned into a slight whine, fluttery traces of arousal settling between his hips seemingly out of the ether.</p><p> </p><p>"I think you can say something is nice because you may be coming around to the reality that you're— “ </p><p> </p><p>"Don't fucking say it."</p><p> </p><p>"Oh, but you <em> are </em>so good, Crowley!"</p><p> </p><p>The flicker of arousal combusted, causing Crowley to draw a sharp hiss of air through his teeth as his cock twitched and started to fill.</p><p> </p><p>"You never let me tell you how good you were," Aziraphale continued in a soft voice, still skittering fingernails along a sensitive scalp. Crowley arched his back slightly to press his head into those nails as the sensation swung violently from relaxing to exciting. "I think deep down you were probably good from the beginning—"</p><p> </p><p>"Wasn't," Crowley interjected weakly.</p><p> </p><p>" — but over the centuries and millennia I think that goodness only grew. It wasn’t nearly so <em> deeply </em> buried, really."</p><p> </p><p>"Fuck, Angel," Crowley gasped, fully hard and aching in his jeans. What was wrong with him? "What are you doing to me?" he whined.</p><p> </p><p>"I was going to thank you for your understanding this morning," Aziraphale murmured, finally looking down at him, meeting wild citrine eyes with calm azure ones. "But you don't like hearing about my gratitude, so— “</p><p> </p><p>“Hhhrrrk, don’t like this much either, Angel,” Crowley gritted his teeth, lifting his hips off the couch for a moment.</p><p> </p><p>“Well...we both know that’s not true, darling,” Aziraphale murmured. “Don’t we?”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley opened his eyes again (he’d squeezed them shut?!) and shot the angel what he hoped was a withering glare. He should get up. He should stomp off. He definitely shouldn’t let the smug celestial arsehole keep playing with his hair while his cock tries to secede from the rest of his body. Right. He should go!</p><p> </p><p>Any minute now!</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale’s fingers made another pass of that spot at the back of his scalp and Crowley’s eyes rolled back and he relaxed back down in a shuddering heap of arousal and need.</p><p> </p><p>“I think you enjoy this quite a bit, actually,” Aziraphale was saying in that overly innocent tone that announced he was being an utter prick. “The nice gentleman at the sex shop called it a ‘praise kink’, and gave me all sorts of helpful— “</p><p> </p><p>“Sex shop!” Crowley shouted, in utter shock. “When did you go to a bleeding sex shop?!”</p><p> </p><p>“Shhh!” Aziraphale shushed him. He glanced down the hallway toward where Thea was sleeping. A moment later and Crowley felt the tell-tale shimmer of energy of one of Aziraphale’s concealment spells, the kind that hid them from prying eyes and ears. Crowley swallowed hard. “I went after lunch, if you must know,” Aziraphale smirked. “There are quite a few of them in Soho. I’m sure you’ve noticed.”</p><p> </p><p>“But you were going to do shelving,” Crowley whined, unsure why that mattered at all at the moment, but apparently needing to say <em> something </em>.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes. I left the books where you put them for now,” Aziraphle sighed.</p><p> </p><p>“<em> Oh Christ! </em> ” Crowley moaned, his hips jumping again. <em> His books. His precious books are still on the bloody floor. He left them there and went to a sodding sex shop! </em></p><p> </p><p>“I had questions, you see,” Aziraphale continued, ignoring Crowley’s whine. “And I wanted to consult a knowledgeable third party. I know I’m not always very good at discussing these matters with you in a way that will leave you feeling properly supported. You tend to think I’m judging you.”</p><p> </p><p>“Literally your job to judge me,” Crowley groaned.</p><p> </p><p>“It really isn’t,” Aziraphale chided gently. “In any case, would you like to hear what I’ve learned?”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Oh fuck yes, talk dirty to me, Angel. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Hhhhennk.”</p><p> </p><p>“Some of your... kinks made me quite nervous, I’m sure you could tell,” he sighed. Crowley opened his eyes (he’d squeezed them shut again?!) and glared in earnest this time. The shame he’d felt telling the angel about that echoed in his hollow heart and the heady thrum of arousal dissipated just enough that he could stop squirming.</p><p> </p><p>“Just <em> one </em>, really, if I’m being honest. As it turns out, there is quite a bit of controversy on the subject, due to issues of consent, and personal safety. The law is quite clear that --.”</p><p> </p><p>“Human laws don’t apply to—”</p><p> </p><p>“To angels and demons, yes of course, but the gentleman didn’t know about our ethereal nature.”</p><p> </p><p>“Occult,” Crowley corrected.</p><p> </p><p>“<em> Ethereal </em>. In any case, I’ve been mulling it over and I just don’t feel at all comfortable with it. That, in addition to what we've previously discussed, is on my 'hard no' list.”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley stared up at him in tired annoyance. “Yeah. <em> S’fine </em> , Angel. I already told you that <em> it’s fine </em>.”</p><p> </p><p>“But I'm sure I can find... other ways, to make you feel loved and taken care of, my dear. And everything else is potentially on the table,” Aziraphale rushed to explain. Crowley instinctively showed his fangs at the absurd ‘<em> make you feel loved and taken care of’ </em> part of that. That sounded horrifically uncomfortable and he had no idea what it had to do with the kink-that-can’t-be-named. The angel was just so weird sometimes.</p><p> </p><p>Wait. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Did he say everything else is potentially on the table? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Crowley chuckled nervously. “Angel…<em> wot?! </em>”</p><p> </p><p>“ I have books! Oh, my love, there's so much we can explore.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> My love. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>The shame vanished and the arousal came back full force. <em> Shit shit shit. </em></p><p> </p><p>“Now the <em> praise kink </em> makes perfect sense to me. It isn’t as though you had much kindness shown to you in the past,” Aziraphale continued happily. “If you were actually as evil as your colleagues that may not have bothered you but as you happen to be, as I’ve said, <em> good </em>...”</p><p> </p><p>“Ngk!”</p><p> </p><p>“And kind….”</p><p> </p><p>“Mmnkk!”</p><p> </p><p>“And deeply, relentlessly driven by your own sense of honour...”</p><p> </p><p>“Hhhennn?…” the angel lost him somewhat with that bit.</p><p> </p><p>“It makes sense that being praised now would bring you pleasure. And I’m so gratified to know I can do that.” Aziraphale smiled at him without a hint of smugness, which was actually impressive considering how riled he’d managed to get Crowley with nothing but some head scratches and pretty words.</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t— ng...I don’t have a—” he took a calming breath, desperate to recover a bit of his demonic pride. “I don’t have a bloody prai—”</p><p> </p><p>“Simple enough matter to find out, isn’t it?” Aziraphale’s grin was definitely smug <em> now </em>. Aziraphale made an oblique gesture and Crowley recognized some of the glyphs from the Empathic dampening wards added to the angel’s concealment spell. Crowley frowned at him, understanding how badly fucked he was.</p><p> </p><p>“Crowley?”</p><p> </p><p>“Shit.”</p><p> </p><p>“You’re incredible.”</p><p> </p><p>“Sod off,” he groaned, squeezing his thighs together against the stab of pleasure. He couldn’t tell if that helped or made it worse.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re attentive, and patient and lovely, darling. You are so good to me. You encourage me to be open, you worry about me, you ordered me lunch and forgave my terrible manners.”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley huffed, rolling onto his back again to accommodate his erection, but also because he needed Aziraphale to know that wasn’t out of <em> kindness </em>.</p><p> </p><p>“You deserve those things, Angel,” he moaned, reaching up to cup the angel’s cheek. “S’not some act of charity from me, Aziraphale. I’m not...<em> yerrch </em> , ‘good’ just because I can see that you <em> are </em>.”</p><p> </p><p>“You could take advantage of me, but you don’t,” Aziraphale pointed out. “You certainly don’t need to do any of the dozens of little kindnesses that you’ve bestowed upon me over the years. All your demonic miracles, and sweet little gifts. Honestly, just your continued presence in my life has been more of a blessing to me than anything I have ever received from Heaven.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh shiiiit,” Crowley groaned. Fuck. Okay. Fuck. Maybe...<em> Maybe </em>...he had a bit of a… “Angel, stop!”</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale lifted his fingers from Crowley’s hair for a moment while the demon caught his breath but then…</p><p> </p><p>“Darling, when you say ‘stop’,” Aziraphale began, his voice dark and smooth. “Do you mean <em> ‘Stop’ </em> ? Or do you mean <em> ‘Mongoose’ </em>?</p><p> </p><p>“HHhhhaaaaahhh…” Crowley shivered. </p><p> </p><p>“I mean…” he looked up at Aziraphale. The angel simply waited, patient, lustful, open. No judgement. “Bollocks. I meant <em> ‘stop’ </em>.”</p><p> </p><p>“Ah,” Aziraphale smiled, resuming his idle scratching along Crowley’s scalp. “In that case. <em> No </em>.”</p><p> </p><p>“Fuuuuuuuuck,” Crowley groaned, writhing in the angel’s lap.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re lovely like this, darling.” Aziraphale’s voice was rough and low now. It was intensely sexy and Crowley reached down to palm his aching cock through his jeans but Aziraphale captured his wrist and held it up to his lips to kiss the speeding pulse there.</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t touch yourself yet, dear. Just listen to how much I adore you.”</p><p> </p><p>“Angel,” Crowley moaned. “Shit, I’m…”</p><p> </p><p>“You’re perfect, my dear. You’re simply gorgeous, all flushed and damp and desperate. And to think this is all for me! That my love for you can make you look like this, sound like this. Oh, my darling, your little noises are so enchanting. I’m going to reduce you to so much jelly every chance I can, my dear. And you can look forward to this for a millenia more because make no mistake, Crowley. You are mine. Every sigh and moan and begging cry. You are mine, my gorgeous <em> good </em>demon, and I am yours.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> FUCK! </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, ah — ha — oh, fuck Angel! I’m— <em> MMmmph </em>!” Aziraphale grabbed Crowley roughly by the front of his waistcoat and hauled him up into a bruising kiss just as the orgasm began to crest. The angel’s other hand cupped the spasming bulge in his dark jeans, squeezing and rubbing him though it as Crowley howled into his lover’s mouth, muffled and constricted in an awkward embrace that just made it all so much hotter. He pulsed out into his pants, soaking his trousers through with slick, his eyes rolled so far back into his head he was temporarily blind. He shuddered through the aftershocks, clinging to the angel, breathing ragged gulps of air against soft tan wool.</p><p> </p><p>Another couch. Another load shot into his jeans. Bloody bastard angel. Humiliating.</p><p> </p><p>“Fuuck,” Crowley groaned, easing back down on the angel’s lap. “I’m so bloody weak.”</p><p> </p><p>“No, Crowley,” Aziraphale assured him. “Quite the opposite, in fact. But I understand how difficult it is to move beyond the misconceptions we have of ourselves. And perhaps, a little weakness now and then isn’t the worst thing.”</p><p> </p><p>“No?” Crowley made to miracle away the mess in his pants, but couldn’t seem to muster the brain power yet. He dropped his arm to his chest with a smack.</p><p> </p><p>“Not at all,” Aziraphale smiled, sweeping a hand lightly over Crowley’s black clad hips and leaving him clean and dry and fresh. Crowley gave him a wobbly smile in thanks. “I admit I may not be the most threatening, or the greatest warrior, but I would lend you the still-rather-considerable strength I have to shelter you when you need it.”</p><p> </p><p>“As someone who has had both the pleasure and displeasure of seeing you right cheesed off, Angel, lemme assure you that you can be downright terrifying.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, really? Oh, that’s sweet of you to say.”</p><p> </p><p>“So…” Crowley’s brain was mostly back to fully functioning, and he felt himself blush and had to make a concerted effort not to hide it. He wanted Aziraphale to see the mess he’d made of him. He wanted the angel to know how badly Crowley needed him. Wanted him.</p><p> </p><p>It did take some of the sting out of his embarrassment that the angel was bady aroused himself. The soft lap under Crowley’s head was significantly less soft, the hard edge of his erection nudged up against the demon’s ear.</p><p> </p><p>“I am very impressed that you left your books on the shop floor in favour of visiting a sex shop,” he leered up Aziraphale. He rocked his head against the hard cock under him with the pretense of stretching his neck.</p><p> </p><p>“Like I mentioned, I had questions,” Aziraphale’s smile tightened slightly at the stimulation, and the heat in those blue eyes suggested he knew Crowley’s movements weren’t innocent at all. “And once I moved past the initial embarrassment it was really quite easy to talk to him. I don’t know if the gentleman is paid by commission but if so, I think I made his week.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh Hell, what did you buy?”  Crowley flexed his hands above him in a ‘gimme gimme’ gesture.</p><p> </p><p>“I left it at the shop, darling” Aziraphale laughed. “I think we’ve traumatized poor Thea enough.”</p><p> </p><p>“Didn’t stop you from taking me apart on her bloody couch,” Crowley teased.</p><p> </p><p>“True, but that is where I am the one who’s weak,” Aziraphale smiled. “I think I’d like to take you apart pretty much anywhere.”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley looked up into the eyes of the one he loved the most. “Is your concealment spell still up? Empathic wards still strong?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, but I can sense that she is still deeply asleep too so…” he trailed off suggestively. Crowley slithered off the couch, folding his rubbery legs under him as he drifted between the angel’s legs. </p><p> </p><p><em> Yes, definitely garden roses… </em> he thought, breathing hot air against Aziraphale’s erection through the layers of fabric. <em> Snapdragons, white, yellow or peach… </em> He placed hard open mouthed kisses along the covered length, echoing Aziraphale’s groan with his own when those blessed fingers curled in his hair and tugged.</p><p> </p><p><em> Pale astilbe, green privet berries… </em> He unfastened the trousers and freed the thick erection, licking a slow dripping trail from base to tip. <em> No baby’s breath! Fuck Baby’s Breath. Get that shit outta there. Queen Anne’s lace! That’s the ticket. Snowy and delicate and full. </em></p><p> </p><p>He took the angel into his mouth, slurping obscenely and not caring. Aziraphale liked it wet and hot. He pressed his lips firmly to the velvet length and slowly sank down until his nose was buried in platinum blond curls. <em> Thistle, fresh or dried, accent piece, earthy, sharp, beautiful, simple, perfect. </em></p><p> </p><p>He swallowed around the head, tasting salt and bitter, loving it, wanting it. He swallowed again before drawing back, almost all the way. He opened his mouth, resting the weeping cock head on the pillow of his tongue, letting the cool air hit it. Letting Aziraphale see it. He opened his eyes and stared up at the panting angel. His blue eyes were wide, dark, entranced. Crowley gave him a show, flicking long licks with a thick, ever so slightly forked tongue. The angel shuddered in appreciation. Crowley closed his eyes again and closed his mouth around his prize, sealing it back up in the tight wet heat of his throat.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Maybe lamb’s ear at the base? Velvety soft, wide flat leaves. Or go with his first thought, a spattering of bright white star of bethlehem. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Crowley moaned around the angel’s cock as Aziraphale began to pull his hair with some urgency now. His feet were sliding on the rug on either side of the demon as he tried to control his thrusts. Crowley solved that by grabbing the angel’s hips and encouraging him to fuck his mouth. Aziraphale complied with a cry of gratitude, thrusting with wild abandon.</p><p> </p><p><em> Green trick dianthus, a pop of texture. Pale creamy tartan ribbon. Eucalyptus and rosemary in the arches and sea salt and dry grass in the air </em>.</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale came with a guttural moan, biting his fist, while the other hand pulled Crowley’s scalp raw. Crowley swallowed, humming his pleasure as he lapped up the last of Aziraphale’s.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> A cottage, a garden, a safe place. Two rings, two studies, one bed. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Crowley kissed the softening cock and gently tucked it back in place, refastening the taupe trousers while the angel caught his breath above him. Crowley rested his cheek against a soft, quivering thigh, and closed his eyes again.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Sunrises, Sunsets, walks on the beach. Vegetables and herbs in the garden. Stormy nights spent in front of a crackling fire. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“What are you thinking about my dear?” Aziraphale murmured, drawing Crowley up to sit with him again. He smiled contentedly, kicked his feet back up on the couch and set his head back on the angel’s lap, gesturing for scalp scritches once more.</p><p> </p><p>“Just picturing you in a sex shop, Angel,” Crowley grinned. “You better take me with you next time.”</p><p>
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<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Fox Eyes</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>A sneaky Aziraphale continues to come up with creative ways of convincing Crowley to let the angel take care of him.</p><p>Thea experiments with Hellfire/Visits a gallery (not at the same time) </p><p>Roan is a hero.</p><p>Crowley tries to get some balance back in his life.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This is the last somewhat low-key chapter before shit starts to hit the fan. </p><p>I had to cut the chapter off at a somewhat spicy part because I actually have limits on what I’ll allow for word counts per chapter...HOWEVER...there will be a link at the bottom of the fic that will take you to Carpe Demon’s first fic, which happens to be the scene missing at the end of this chapter!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
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  <em> Turn down the voice inside my head </em>
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  <em> 'Cause heaven only knows why we feel this emptiness </em>
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  <em> But I will climb out, find another view </em>
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  <em> Now I've found you. </em>
</p><p> </p><p><span class="u"> <em> Ultralife </em> </span> <em> by Oh Wonder </em></p><p>
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</p><p>Crowley woke slowly, a faint scratching sound whispering its way into his consciousness. He rolled over, trying to get comfortable, and realized he was lying on a couch. The scratching started up again. He cracked open one eye.</p><p> </p><p>Thea sat in Aziraphale's usual spot, a large sketchbook on her lap, a dark charcoal pencil moving across the paper in short strokes. Aziraphale was leaning over her shoulder, watching her work while his hand hovered above her head, healing energy drifting over her.</p><p> </p><p>Thea spotted Crowley’s glare and smiled playfully.</p><p> </p><p>"Busted," she chuckled, looking up at Aziraphale. The angel finished up his healing work and smoothed his hands down the front of his waistcoat.</p><p> </p><p>"Coffee?" the angel offered, moving off to the kitchen.</p><p> </p><p><em>Suspicious</em>.</p><p> </p><p>"I know you're not stupid enough to be sketching <em> me </em>," Crowley hissed.</p><p> </p><p>"Is that a <em> no </em>to coffee?" Thea asked, innocently closing the sketchbook.</p><p> </p><p>"I'm surprised," Aziraphale agreed from the kitchen. "He's usually fond of coffee."</p><p> </p><p>"Well,<em> I </em>wouldn't say no to a coffee," Thea grinned, standing with the sketchbook and moving to the safety of the kitchen.</p><p> </p><p>Crowley glared at them both, trying to stifle one of his jaw-cracking yawns. He slid his feet to the floor, pushing himself upright. </p><p> </p><p>"Of-bloody-course I'll take a coffee, you sodding twerps," he snarled dramatically, summoning the last bit of energy needed to get all the way to standing. He scanned the couch, checking for any stains from last night but aside from a small patch of drool it was all clear. Crowley vanished it with a wave and silently vowed to destroy that drawing.</p><p> </p><p>"How's yer brain?" he asked, joining them.</p><p> </p><p>"Better, I think. Just got a bit…" she shrugged, passing him a mug. "It was bad timing anyway. I got some bad news after you two left so maybe I was more susceptible to fuckery than I'd normally be."</p><p> </p><p>"I shouldn't think it would matter, I'm afraid," Aziraphale sighed. “We really should have been more considerate of your abilities."</p><p> </p><p>Thea peered into her own mug, uncomfortable. Aziraphale fussed about making his own, nibbling his lip and internally yelling at himself so loudly Crowley thought he could hear every recrimination.</p><p> </p><p>"Speaking of being considerate," Crowley drawled, giving the angel a pointed look before turning back to Thea. "<em> What bad news? </em>"</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale's eyes darted back and forth between Thea and Crowley and his mouth opened into a surprised 'oh,' then an embarrassed smile. Crowley grinned. He'd remind the angel of how he's less considerate than a demon at a later date when it would be funnier. Always good to collect angel-flustering ammunition.</p><p> </p><p>"It's stupid really. Just a real estate thing," Thea sighed. "Anna's grandparents are selling their cottage. Anna was supposed to inherit it, she loved the place and we always thought we'd…"</p><p>Thea coughed and sharply turned away again. Aziraphale shot Crowley a pointed look this time and Crowley rolled his eyes, realizing 'buy a cottage' was suddenly being shoved into his schedule. "Anyway, it's fine," Thea continued. "Just threw me for a loop, that's all."</p><p> </p><p>"It can be difficult to see others moving on after a profound loss," Aziraphale smiled kindly, giving Thea's shoulder a gentle squeeze. "I'm very sorry to hear about the sale. Is there anything you need?"</p><p> </p><p>"No. I'm fine now," she assured him. "Just letting things go piece by piece. You know?"</p><p> </p><p>"One thing I find always helps?" Crowley smirked, sliding around the counter. "Distractions!"</p><p> </p><p>Crowley swiped the sketchbook off the counter, ignoring Thea's yelp. He quickly flipped through the drawings but he couldn't find one of him. There were a couple sketches of the fox, a rough skyline sketch and a couple studies of the Bentley. </p><p> </p><p>"All right, where is it?" he growled. Thea looked bemused. Aziraphale looked too innocent. "Angel…? Where is it?"</p><p> </p><p>"Safe and sound where you'll never find it," Aziraphale sipped his coffee.</p><p> </p><p>Bastard.</p><p> </p><p>"Who is Benjamin Theodore Ley the 1st?" Crowley arched a brow at Thea, pointing to the name under the Bentley sketch.</p><p> </p><p>"Um," she scoffed. "Rude."</p><p> </p><p>"Don't name my car!" he hissed. "You're sucking the cool out of it!"</p><p> </p><p>Thea laughed, the misery vanished from her eyes as she pawed at him trying to get her sketchbook back. Crowley smirked at her and dramatically tore the page from the book.</p><p> </p><p>"Nooo!" She cried melodramatically. "Ben!"</p><p> </p><p>Crowley summoned the drawing to his safe. It <em> was </em> pretty good, and far less confusing than the painting upstairs in his flat.</p><p> </p><p>"A demon <em> and </em> an art thief!" Thea grumbled in mock outrage. "How dare you, sir."</p><p> </p><p>Art thief. Crowley grinned. She had <em> no </em> idea.</p><p> </p><p>The conversation was fairly easy from that point. Crowley took his coffee back to the couch, pulling out his phone to begin the process of finding this blasted cottage while Aziraphale and Thea took Roan for a walk.</p><p> </p><p>He found Anna's obituary. It was the last post Thea had made on social media. From there he was able to learn the names of Anna’s grandparents. Then it was a simple case of searching real estate listings until he found it. He grumbled a bit at the price, but fired the listing off to his financial guy in an email saying only, “<em> Get me this </em>.”</p><p> </p><p>It would make Aziraphale happy. It would make Thea happy. </p><p> </p><p>“Yuck,” he muttered at himself, sliding back down on the couch and wondering if it was too soon for another nap. He was going to have to spend several weeks straight on pure mischief just to get his groove back after all this saccharine rubbish. Stupid cute angel. Gross.</p><p> </p><p>"I know, but I just don't want to do it again!" Thea exclaimed over her shoulder as she entered the flat, the fox racing in ahead. </p><p> </p><p>Ugh. Conflict. Crowley rolled over and pretended to be asleep.</p><p> </p><p>"I wish I could simply honour that, my dear. I really do," Aziraphale's voice was heavy with apprehension. "However, we all saw how your hand reacted to the Hellfire. Considering Hell's interest in you, and your obvious demonic reactions, we really need to better understand what is happening to you."</p><p> </p><p>"No," Thea's voice tried for firmness but was about an octave too high. "If something goes wrong it could not only kill <em> me </em>, remember?"</p><p> </p><p>Crowley squeezed his eyes shut. Hellfire, Hell, demonic reactions? He should <em> probably </em> be involved in this discussion. </p><p> </p><p>"Fffffgnnnn—" he sat up and glared at them both. "Angel's right," he grumbled. "We need to know if you can hold it, or summon it. Can't have you just flaming up someday out of the blue." Thea stormed off into the kitchen. "Thea's right too," Crowley directed the comment to Aziraphale. "If we're playing with Hellfire, you should head off somewhere safer, like the bookshop." He glanced at Thea, who looked upset and nervous. "Or Tokyo."</p><p> </p><p>They both glared at him now. The usual bickering and struggle for control ensued with Aziraphale once again refusing to cede any ground even though this was Crowley’s area and Hellfire could badly hurt the stubborn angel. He agreed to stay confined to the kitchen, so Crowley cleared the studio of flammables while Aziraphale bulldozed Thea’s arguments until the girl finally submitted, glowering and muttering colourful insults under her breath.</p><p> </p><p>Crowley gave them both the side-eye while carefully unwinding the pothos’ tendrils so he could move the plant to safety. He couldn’t help but wonder about what was about to go wrong. He could put Thea in the far corner away from the kitchen. That should be more than far enough for a small bit of fire, but fire by its very nature could be unpredictable and Hellfire even more so. Thea was a massively chaotic variable and Crowley didn’t like this anymore than she did.</p><p> </p><p>“Not to pile on, but is it a good idea to do this <em> today </em>?” Crowley asked, really not enjoying the way the angel was glaring at him again. “I know it should be done, but… I mean, we scrambled her brain yesterday so maybe—”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, and we injected Thea with a great deal of angelic and demonic energy in the process which has advanced her condition considerably,” Aziraphale confessed bitterly. Crowley’s eyes widened in surprise. This is the first he’d heard of it having a conclusive effect. Thea sighed, and shuffled her feet, uncomfortable. Roan whined. It seemed Crowley was the only one in the dark.</p><p> </p><p>“Sssorry,” he rubbed his temples, feeling a stress headache coming on already. “What do you mean we advanced her condition? What happened and why didn’t anyone bloody tell me?!”</p><p> </p><p>“Aziraphale only checked on my aura while we were out walking Roan,” Thea admitted. “We just found out.”</p><p> </p><p>“When Thea first moved in here she had two large scars of energy on her metaphysical body,” Aziraphale explained. “One demonic, one angelic. They were considerable, but they seemed stable. They grew somewhat after her encounter with Hastur and Gabriel the other day, and now...they’ve...spread quite a bit more.”</p><p> </p><p>“Meaning what?” Crowley growled. He really didn’t like the sound of any of this. Thea frowned and crouched down to make a fuss of the fox, obviously seeking comfort in the scruffy fur. This couldn’t be easy for her to hear. </p><p> </p><p>“I honestly don’t know, Crowley,” Aziraphale admitted. “Only that she isn’t human any longer, and it seems woefully irresponsible to assume she is unable to access celestial or infernal abilities like any other angel or demon. <em> Anything </em>could be possible.”</p><p> </p><p>“My head is fine,” Thea declared, standing again. “I don’t think I’ll be any more in control tomorrow or the next day, and as much I hate to say it, Aziraphale’s right. The sooner I get answers the better.” She picked up the fox and brought it to the kitchen, handing it over to the angel. “Thank you for your wisdom and support,” she grumbled.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re welcome dear,” Aziraphale smiled at her, taking Roan in his arms. “Perhaps the next time you say that you’ll even <em> mean </em>it.”</p><p> </p><p>“I <em> do </em>mean it,” Thea grumbled again. “That’s the worst part!”</p><p> </p><p>“Hey!” Crowley clapped his hands at them, annoyed at the lack of attention. “What’s the plan here? I’m not unleashing any Hellfire without a solid bloody plan.”</p><p> </p><p>“We should proceed with slow small steps,” Aziraphale agreed. “Perhaps Thea can try to touch it again, and if that goes well, she can attempt to hold a small amount?”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley didn’t like this. </p><p> </p><p>“Fine. One one condition,” he crossed the room to join the angel. “You have to promise me that if this goes tits up you will miracle yourself out of this building immediately.”</p><p> </p><p>“Crowley,” Aziraphale huffed, putting on his best stubborn-bugger face, but Crowley wasn’t risking the angel for this. Not even for Thea.</p><p> </p><p>“No promise, No Hellfire,” Crowley informed him. “And that’s bloody final.”</p><p> </p><p>“Fine,” Aziraphale snapped.</p><p> </p><p>Satisfied, Crowley ushered Thea back to the far corner, keeping himself between her and the kitchen. He waited for her to collect herself and once she nodded at him, he summoned a small ball of Hellfire in his palm.</p><p> </p><p>“Okay. Nice and easy, now,” he told her. “Just see if you can put your hand near it.”</p><p> </p><p>Thea slowly reached out, keeping her fingers several centimeters away from the edge of the fireball.</p><p> </p><p>“How’s it feel?” he asked her.</p><p> </p><p>Thea narrowed her eyes in concentration. “It’s...warm, but not as hot as I expected. It feels...weird. Part of me really wants to touch it. Part of me wants to run away.”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley frowned. Indecision and Hellfire seemed a bad mix. He glanced over his shoulder at Aziraphale who motioned for him to continue. Crowley rolled his eyes. Idiot angel had no sense of self-preservation.</p><p> </p><p>“You okay?” Crowley asked Thea. “Do you want to keep going?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah. Can I?” </p><p> </p><p>“Pass your hand through,” Crowley told her. “Quick and smooth.”</p><p> </p><p>She did. The same creep of shiny black coated her skin where she was licked by flame, only this time there was definition to the shine, the slight outline of scales.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh,” she gasped. “Is that…”</p><p> </p><p>“Erm…” Crowley shrugged with one shoulder, deeply uncomfortable about the development.</p><p> </p><p>“What?!” Aziraphale fussed from the kitchen. “What’s happening?”</p><p> </p><p>“Same as before, Az,” Thea explained. “But it kinda looks like scales maybe.”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley extinguished the hellfire angrily. He just knew he was going to get blamed for this.</p><p> </p><p>“What’s wrong?” Thea asked, wide-eyed. “Does this prove something? Are we done?”</p><p> </p><p>“Crowley?” Aziraphale fretted. “What’s the matter?”</p><p> </p><p>He looked between the two of them, bemused. Neither of them seemed angry.</p><p> </p><p>“I...I didn’t mean to…”</p><p> </p><p>“You didn’t do this to me, Crowley,” Thea assured him. He glared at her, shuffled his feet. “Beelzebub did this. Gabriel did this. I’d be dead by now without your help. None of this is your fault.”</p><p> </p><p>“Except I poured a bunch of my bloody hell energy into you and gave you—” he cut himself off with a hiss. Gave her what? Scales? “Wait...actually that might be a good thing.” Crowley’s scales were demonic and ugly, but they were also armour, something that might well be useful for Thea to have.</p><p> </p><p>He summoned the ball of Hellfire again and held it out toward her. “Do it again. Slower. Lets see what they look like.”</p><p> </p><p>Thea swallowed hard but nodded. She slid her hand through the flames again, watching as inky black scales formed everywhere the fire touched. Fascinated she held her hand over the flame, her fingers turning to vicious claws wreathed in the unholy glow of Hellfire.</p><p> </p><p>“Careful,” Crowley warned. “Now, slowly turn your palm up and see if you can scoop some of the fire into your hand. Hellfire is heavy, it sinks, so it will flow onto you if you let it.”</p><p> </p><p>Thea nodded, slowly turning her wrist as he instructed. Crowley watched the fire carefully and sure enough a small amount sectioned off onto her palm. She was doing it. She was holding Hellfire! He grinned at her with pride, and after a moment she grinned back at him.</p><p> </p><p>And then the fire started to spread. Thea made a noise of discomfort, her eyes wide with fear again. </p><p> </p><p>“How do I stop it?” she cried as the fire started to lick up her wrist. </p><p> </p><p>“Crowley?” Aziraphale squawked from the safety of the kitchen. The fox made a sick sound of complaint.</p><p> </p><p>“Easy,” Crowley extinguished his own flame and held his hands out toward the girl. “You need to stay calm, send it back into your palm.”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s not...ow! It’s... Ow!” Thea winced, the fire spreading up her forearm now.</p><p> </p><p>“Crowley!” Aziraphale yelled helplessly.</p><p> </p><p>“Bookshop, Angel,” Crowley snapped back. “NOW!”</p><p> </p><p>Thea panicked, shaking her arm, doing literally the worst thing you could do. The fire continued to spread and she started to cry.</p><p> </p><p>“I can’t! It hurts!” she sobbed. “I’m not strong enough!”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley ripped his jacket off and wrapped it around her to smother the flames. Her scaled hand grabbed his again and felt...cold? He staggered, gasping out a cloud of vapour before the world spun into black.</p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p> </p><p>“Bookshop, Angel,” Crowley snapped at him. “NOW!”</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale clutched Roan to his chest and took several steps back but he refused to leave yet. Two people he loved dearly were in a frightening battle for their lives. He couldn’t leave.</p><p> </p><p>“It hurts!” Thea sobbed, making Aziraphale choke on a helpless cry of his own. The sense of powerlessness was strangling him. “I’m not strong enough!”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley moved quickly, wrapping the girl in his jacket, and then suddenly the demon was unconscious on the ground. Aziraphale cried out in panic, dropping the fox as he rushed forward. Thea stopped him in his tracks with a look.</p><p> </p><p>She straightened her spine, Crowley’s jacket sliding off her flaming arms to smoulder on the floor. Her clawed hand still extended toward the fallen demon, absorbing more energy.  She looked deathly calm, watching the flames dance over her black-scaled forearms. </p><p> </p><p>“Thea?” he called gently. “You need to put the fire out so I can help Crowley.”</p><p> </p><p>Thea turned her head to look at Aziraphale, cocking her head curiously as if she didn’t recognize him.  Aziraphale backed away again. Thea’s eyes were both bright orange now, slitted pupils constricted down to thin black lines. She hissed at him, flashing white fangs.</p><p> </p><p>“Angel,” she hissed again, taking a predatory step forward. “Enemy.”</p><p> </p><p>“No no no, my dear,” Aziraphale insisted. “It’s me. Aziraphale. Remember? Wisdom and support?”</p><p> </p><p>Thea dragged her ankle forward, as if walking were suddenly foreign to her but she managed to back Aziraphale into the kitchen before she was halted by the shrill keening cry of a fox. They both looked down at Roan, who was sitting in the middle of the kitchen between them. The fox keened again, and Thea backed away a step.</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale held his breath as Thea and Roan seemed to have a silent conversation. She flicked those slitted orange eyes, (Snake eyes? Fox eyes?) up at him a couple times, more wary than threatening. Finally Roan stood up and walked towards Thea. Aziraphale yelped, reaching helplessly towards the animal but Thea extinguished the flames on her arms before the fox joined her. She scratched Roan’s ears with human looking hands. She looked back up at him then with wide mismatched eyes.</p><p> </p><p>“Az...I’m sorry, I…” She took several steps toward him then stopped. “Oh! Crowley!” she remembered, turning midstep and returning to the fallen demon.</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale felt an overwhelming wave of relief and fear all at once. Thea seemed herself once more, safe to approach, at least, so he hurried over with her to turn Crowley over onto his back.</p><p>He was out cold, but alive.</p><p> </p><p>“I can help,” Thea promised. “I can fix it.”</p><p> </p><p>“How?” Aziraphale demanded hotly, causing Thea to recoil slightly in alarm. “I’m sorry,” he amended his tone, trying to calm his frayed nerves. “What do you plan to do?”</p><p> </p><p>“Energy boost,” she shrugged. “I’ve done it before.”</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale nodded, stepping away. Thea placed her palm on Crowley’s chest, a dull green shine spreading across her fingers. Suddenly Crowley jolted awake, uttering a sound that was something between a hiss and a squawk. Thea fell back, as if startled at the speed in which Crowley recovered. Aziraphale fell to his knees and pulled the demon into his arms, kissing his fiery hair.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re all right, darling!” he sobbed into Crowley’s neck, suddenly overcome with emotion. For a moment all he wanted was to wrap Crowley in his wings and send them both somewhere far away. Somewhere safe. </p><p> </p><p>“MMNngkk!” Crowley croaked. “Ack!” Aziraphale relaxed his grip slightly, letting Crowley slip free. “Bloody Hell, Angel. I thought <em> I </em> was the constrictor,” he spat.</p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p> </p><p>Things were awkward for an hour or so. Thea’s arms were sore, the ache of tired muscles and a sunburn-like sting. Aziraphale was frosty, fussing over Crowley as if he’d been on death’s door instead of just unconscious. And yeah, having a metric fuck-ton of energy sucked out him at once was probably not good for him, but it wasn’t like Thea <em> meant </em>to do it. The fire was burning her. It fucking hurt! She knew she didn’t have enough power to control it and then Crowley was touching her and she just... reacted.</p><p> </p><p>And sure, ‘just reacting’ in a way that drops your demon godfather cold wasn’t... great. She wasn’t going to bring it up as a <em> defense </em>. Still... how was she supposed to control a power she didn’t even know she had? Wasn’t that the whole point of doing all this anyway?</p><p> </p><p>She cast a sulky look at Aziraphale. He stood in the kitchen trying to force-feed soup to a frustrated and snappish Crowley. Thea drew her legs up under her on the couch and dug her fingers into Roan’s thick ruff.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re a good girl,” Thea whispered to her. “You’re the real hero, here.”</p><p> </p><p>Roan lolled her head on Thea’s lap and let her tongue flop out happily. </p><p> </p><p>Thea shivered, remembering the way the demonic energy overwhelmed and confused her. She remembered seeing Aziraphale, but she only saw a threat. God help her. She wanted to hurt him. Then she’d heard Roan. Just a simple message: <em> The angel is a friend. The demon needs  help. </em>Thea didn’t want to think about what she might have forced Aziraphale to do if Roan hadn’t been there.</p><p> </p><p>“Good good girl,” Thea kissed her soft snout.</p><p> </p><p>Crowley managed to escape the kitchen finally and joined her. Aziraphale followed suit stiffly, sitting back in his chair, looking at his hands.</p><p> </p><p>“Y’All right?” Crowley asked her, grabbing her hand and inspecting her arm for injury.</p><p> </p><p>“Are you?” Thea retorted, somewhat bitterly, but she let the demon continue his inspection. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, I’m all better now, Thea,” Crowley smirked sardonically. “I’ve had <em> soup </em>!” he added with a snarl at the angel. Aziraphale glowered back at him and said nothing. “S’fine. No harm done. You did well.”</p><p> </p><p>“It doesn’t feel like I did well,” Thea laughed nervoursly. “And I don’t think we should do that again.”</p><p> </p><p>“I agree,” Aziraphale murmured. “I think we’ve learned what we need to know from it.”</p><p> </p><p>Thea waited to hear what that was. Aziraphale looked deeply unhappy, and that was making Thea deeply unhappy. Crowley just looked annoyed, which seemed to put him in the best mood out of the three of them.</p><p> </p><p>“You got on the wrong side of Hellfire and you survived without getting maimed or killed,” Crowley told her after shooting Aziraphale a filthy look. “You did well. I don’t love that you took so much energy from me but you made yourself strong enough to control the fire and that’s the important part.” He gave Aziraphale a pointed look. “Right?”</p><p> </p><p>So <em> that’s </em>what they were whisper-fighting about in the kitchen.</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale sighed and nodded. It didn’t make Thea feel any better but it didn’t feel like she had the privilege to sulk about it. “Okay,” she shrugged. “What happens next?”</p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p> </p><p>Crowley grumbled to himself, rolling his shoulders. His wings itched. He knew the shower thing had been a bad idea. The bloody things were <em> still </em>damp. He looked over at Thea who was playing with her paint again, listening to music through her earbuds in deference to the immortals hanging around her flat. Well, immortal, singular, since the angelic one decided to take his angst for a walk to the bookshop and finally shelve the books waiting for him on the floor there.</p><p> </p><p>Crowley was torn about how to feel about Aziraphale’s reaction to his blackout. He was smart enough to keep his mouth shut about it, knowing full well he didn’t have a leg to stand on when it came to blaming Thea for accidentally harming one of them. On the other hand, Crowley wasn’t really ‘harmed’ per se. He was very rudely and suddenly put to sleep, something Aziraphale and Crowley had both done to humans hundreds of times over the years, so it seemed a weird thing to get in a snit about.  Especially when Aziraphale had been so concerned about making Thea feel more supported just prior to this happening. Bloody weird. The angel had a lot of feelings.</p><p> </p><p>Of course, he could be upset over the<em> demon </em> of it all. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “Seems clear what she is, then,” Aziraphale had whispered, trying to force another spoonful of soup into Crowley’s mouth. Crowley wasn’t having it. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “Is it?” he snapped quietly. “Coulda fooled me.” </em>
</p><p> </p><p><em> “She’s a </em> <b> <em>demon</em> </b> <em> , Crowley,” Aziraphale spat. “I saw it, clear as day. They made her into a demon.” </em></p><p> </p><p>She’d displayed <em> demonic </em> traits after sucking a bunch of <em> demonic </em> energy out of a <em> demon </em> while struggling to control <em> demonic </em>hellfire. Crowley didn’t think it was conclusive evidence of anything, but Aziraphale wouldn’t listen to him. The angel just bullied him into eating soup, sulked for a couple of hours and then left, requesting that Crowley stay with Thea until she was ready to go to bed.</p><p> </p><p>Conclusion: Aziraphale was a moody jerk. Crowley was the responsible one. The world had lost meaning.</p><p> </p><p>“Oi!” Crowley shouted with a wave. Thea didn’t hear him and kept painting. The fox however lifted its head to look at him, then looked over at Thea and a second later the girl took her earbuds out. </p><p> </p><p>“Did you want something?” she asked him. Crowley shot the fox a suspicious look, refusing to acknowledge what just happened, and nodded at Thea.</p><p> </p><p>“My wings are driving me spare,” he admitted. “Can’t take it anymore. Can I take ‘em out for a bit?”</p><p> </p><p>“Uhhh...yes?” Thea blinked. “Why are they bothering you?”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley unfurled his wings and shook them out slightly, trying to spread his flight feathers as much as possible. “Got em’ wet. Long story. Just want to air ‘em out a bit.”</p><p> </p><p>“Do all demons have wings?” she asked, putting her brush down on her palette and sealing it with a lid.</p><p> </p><p>“Nah. Most don’t. Just the Fallen, and most of ‘em have done away with….the reminder.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh,” Thea responded mutely. “Well, they’re very impressive.”</p><p> </p><p>“I know,” he grinned, giving them another shake. They definitely weren’t impressive right <em> now </em>, still damp and grimey. That twig was still in there somewhere.</p><p> </p><p>“Can I ask you a question about your snake form?” she asked, dropping into her seat, still entranced by the black wings. Crowley considered barking a warning for her not to touch them, but she seemed to be keeping her hands to herself for a change.</p><p> </p><p>“I guess so,” he shrugged.</p><p> </p><p>“The story goes that you were the first snake,” she started, pausing as if to see if that were fallacy or not. Crowley nodded curtly and she continued. “I was wondering if you were venomous in that form, or if you were a constrictor.”</p><p> </p><p>“You wonder about the weirdest things,” Crowley snorted and she gave a self-deprecating laugh.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, I know,” she shrugged. “I’ve got questions about everything. Questions about questions. My brain never shuts up. It’s pretty exhausting to me.”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley could relate. “Both,” answered finally. “I’ve got venom, don’t even have to be in snake form to inject it,” he pointed at his sharp incisors. “But imma constrictor too. Original snake after all.”</p><p> </p><p>“You must give great hugs,” Thea grinned, and Crowley glared at her from behind his glasses. Then he smiled his oh-so-slow smile (Thea didn’t know to panic at this grin like Aziraphale did) and opened his arms as an invitation. Her mismatched eyes widened in amused surprise and she sat upright, tempted, but suspicious.</p><p> </p><p>“Are you going to asphyxiate me?” she asked, narrowing her eyes.</p><p> </p><p>“Never,” he hissed back. She narrowed her eyes even more, then she walked over and joined him on the couch, leaning into his sham offering and now Crowley was left with two options. Push her away or asphyxiate her. She was not supposed to call his bluff like this.</p><p> </p><p>“How nice!” Aziraphale gushed brightly, appearing in the middle of the room. Crowley froze, suddenly rethinking his plan to throw Thea over the back of the couch. </p><p> </p><p>“I know, right?” Thea hugged him then, ignoring his subvocal growl and death-glare. “He <em> offered </em>too.”</p><p> </p><p>“Did he?” Aziraphale smiled and watched Crowley expectantly. </p><p> </p><p>“Yep,” Crowley gritted his teeth. “Cuddly demon. That’s me,” he folded his arms around Thea who sighed happily. Aziraphale nodded, satisfied and sat down in his comfy chair, setting an enticing black bag (the tell-tale opaque black plastic of sex shop totes) into his leather satchel. Crowley rested his chin gently on Thea’s head and slowly tightened his grip, breathing in that pine and cinnamon scent as his muscles continued to squeeze.</p><p> </p><p>“Hhhhhhk!” Thea squeaked.</p><p> </p><p>“Shhh shhh shhh” Crowley soothed, tightening a bit more, just enough to make his point before releasing her.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re so mean,” she muttered, sticking her tongue out at him as she retreated to the safety of her own seat.</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale seemed to have sorted through his feelings and was back to his old self for the rest of the day, making the atmosphere much more comfortable. Crowley was able to kick back and snooze again until he was woken by the scent of freshly baked brownies and the sound of their laughter. He rolled over with a loud Humph, but there were definitely worse things to wake up to.</p><p> </p><p>He and Aziraphale returned to his after Thea finally went to bed, the angel carrying a second helping of brownie on a side plate. Aziraphale's eyes widened at the sight of all the spoons littering his floor.</p><p> </p><p>"You weren't exaggerating!" he gasped. "Lord, just look at them all. And they all came at <em> once </em>?"</p><p> </p><p>"Yeah," Crowley nodded, wondering where to put them. He decided to just send them all to the empty flat next door for now. </p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale took his plate to the kitchen, deciding that it required chocolate sauce. “Have you decided where you’re going to hang Thea’s painting?” he asked, drawing the demon’s attention to the canvas still occupying valuable real estate on his couch. Crowley frowned at it and set it aside facing the wall then folded himself into the spot the painting vacated. </p><p> </p><p>He just kept trading one couch for another, a kept, domestic snake. If he didn’t find a new plot of mischief soon he was going to be at serious risk of going sedentary. Although… He looked over his shoulder at the angel happily spooning far too much chocolate over his brownie, and smirked. He had very good options for cardio workouts that weren’t available to him before.</p><p> </p><p>He patted the couch beside him as Aziraphale came into the room and the angel smiled warmly at him, popping down beside him and putting his brownie on the coffee table. Crowley scooched closer to him. He was just about to begin his seduction when Aziraphale suddenly grabbed him by the front of his shirt and kissed him hard. Crowley gasped a bit in surprise, and Aziraphale smiled against his lips, pressing him back as he kissed him again.</p><p> </p><p>“Mmm, apologies," Aziraphale murmured, kissing Crowley's ear and not sounding sorry at all. "Between the excitement this morning and the book I've been reading, I couldn't wait to get you alone."</p><p> </p><p>Crowley relaxed under the soft weight, exposing more of his neck for the angel’s greedy mouth, trying to remember what Aziraphale had been reading.</p><p> </p><p>“French poetry gets you like this?” he snickered. “I’ll have to remember that.”</p><p> </p><p>“What? Oh, no. Well...yes, sometimes,” Aziraphale waffled between kisses, then reluctantly sat up again, reaching for his book. “The poetry in this case was merely subterfuge though,” he lifted the rosey coloured dust cover to show a bright purple book underneath. That, paired with the black plastic sex shop bag from earlier tipped Crowley off as to the nature of this reading, although he still didn’t know why Aziraphale was hiding the title.</p><p> </p><p>“After everything we’ve been through, you’re still shy?” he smirked, making a grab for the cover. Aziraphale easily evaded his swipe, smiling fondly.</p><p> </p><p>“Hardly, but I don’t think you’ll be interested,” he chuckled, but he removed the dust cover and held it up for inspection. Crowley stuck his tongue out and gave the angel a long drawn out raspberry. Of course he’d go into a sex shop and just buy a book on <em> Improving Intimacy </em>.  “Exactly, see?” Aziraphale smirked. “So leave it alone.”</p><p> </p><p>“<em> You </em> leave it alone and come over here and kiss me again,” Crowley countered.</p><p> </p><p>“Pudding,” Aziraphale shrugged, perpetual tease that he was, and picked up his brownie plate instead. Crowley eyed the amount of chocolate on that tiny plate and instinctively knew he wasn’t winning this one. “Would you be interested to know what I’ve gotten out of my reading this afternoon?” Aziraphale asked salaciously before taking a gooey bite.</p><p> </p><p>“Obviously,” Crowley snorted.</p><p> </p><p>“You’ve been very honest with me about your likes and dislikes, and it occurs to me that I’ve been less forthright about mine,” the angel mumurred, blushing a bit. Crowley smirked, suddenly very interested indeed.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m generally more forthright about pretty much everything than you are, Angel,” Crowley teased. “And I wholly support you telling me all your secrets.”</p><p> </p><p>“I hope you know that I only withheld because I didn’t have much of an answer to give,” Aziraphale confessed, starting to fuss with his fork. Crowley softened his smirk and patted the angel’s knee. </p><p> </p><p>“I know,” Crowley assured him. “And since we haven’t really tried anything particularly kinky, I’m not sure what’s changed in that regard, but I’m all ears.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, well, yes…” Azirphale gave an adorable nervous laugh. Crowley tried to carefully modulate his interest. It wouldn’t do to jump the angel and shake it out of him. </p><p> </p><p><em> Steady, demon, </em> he warned himself. <em> Hands at your sides. Cock in your pants. </em></p><p> </p><p>“It isn’t so much any news about what I <em> like </em>, per se. As you said, I haven’t any experience yet. More… Some things I’d fancy trying out to see if I like them, assuming you’re willing.”</p><p> </p><p>“Uh huh, that’s generally a good place to start,” Crowley agreed. “What do you have in mind?”</p><p> </p><p>“I should say, I don’t think all of this is ‘kink’, exactly,” Azirphale continued to waffle. Crowley was starting to wonder if he was doing it on purpose. It was hard to tell. “Mostly just... locations where I’d like to make love to you.”</p><p> </p><p>“Keen to know, if you’d like to actually tell me,” Crowley bit out as nicely as he could. Aziraphale took another bite of brownie, stalling perhaps, or fortifying himself with sugar. Crowley watched the plush lips fold around the fork and draw back. There was something grounding about the old familiar dance of watching and yearning while Aziraphale ate. Crowley’s blood was still up, but he had ages of practice controlling himself in this setting.</p><p> </p><p>“I’d like to have you in that incredible shower of yours, I think,” Aziraphale mentioned lightly, shattering Crowley’s practiced control in one sentence.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Shit, yes, please fuck me in the shower!  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Some logistics to consider first, but definitely doable,” he nodded, knowing his face was going red but trying to at least keep his voice calm. “Anywhere else?”</p><p> </p><p>“That bloody ridiculous throne of yours,” Aziraphale added as if it were obvious, which maybe it was. Crowley bit his lip. It was a bit close to the plant room, but he’d already been thoroughly fucked in front of them and if anything they just seemed greener.</p><p> </p><p>“The book shop, of course, has a number of interesting possibilities, but the biggest thing I’d like to try…” Aziraphale pauses here and there is tension in the corners of his eyes. This <em> wasn’t </em>a tease, then. The angel was nervous about divulging this for some reason. Crowley leaned forward and took his hand. Aziraphale smiled shyly at him. “When this terrible business with Thea is sorted, I’d like to take you back to mine. To my bedroom, I mean. Above the shop. And I’d like to try it... the other way round.”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley considered this for a moment. The request was fussy and convoluted and Crowley wasn’t 100% sure he knew what Aziraphale was asking for.</p><p> </p><p>“You wanna switch? Is that what you’re saying? Just wanna be clear here.”</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale started fussing, putting his plate down. “I’m more than happy with how we make love now, of course. If you don’t want to—”</p><p> </p><p>“You’re confusing me with talking about Thea and the book shop and all,” Crowley tried to explain. “Just tell me what you want. I’m probably more than fine with it.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, for...I want you to come inside me, Crowley!” Aziraphale growled, exasperated. “There didn’t seem a gentle way to say it.”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley closed his eyes and took a calming breath. He was excruciatingly hard at the moment and the angel was being more obtuse than usual.</p><p> </p><p>“Angel. Given your understandable obsession with informed consent, can’t you see that being clear about this stuff might be more important than being polite?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes. I suppose,” Aziraphale was blushing profusely. “I would like it if you would penetrate me with your — “</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, Got it!” Crowley interrupted because he was hell bent on NOT coming in his jeans tonight. “I mean, in future. Just say what you mean without bloody dancing around it.”</p><p> </p><p>“Of course,” Aziraphale nodded. “I’ll try. This is new to me, and I admit I find discussing it uncomfortable still.”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, for what it’s worth. I’m fine with switching. That would be good. Did you want to try tonight?”</p><p> </p><p>“No!”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley blinked at strength behind that no. Thankfully Aziraphale rushed to explain. “I want to try this very much, but I also know it will be difficult for me the first time. I’d like to be as comfortable as possible. In my own space, without all this dire business hanging over us, splitting my attention. I’m not sure if that makes sense.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah,” Crowley smiled. “It makes perfect sense, angel. We’ll wait until the timing is better.”</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale relaxed immensely at that and Crowley couldn’t help but scoop him up in his lanky arms and kiss him silly. </p><p> </p><p>“There’s more…” the angel hummed, tucking his feet under him as he leaned against Crowley’s chest. “I haven’t looked into it enough to be sure yet, but there’s a chapter in one of the other books about incorporating food with sex and while I’m not sure about how hygenic it would be I’m interested in learning more about that.”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley laughed. “That’s gonna be a pretty huge spectrum angel, but by all means…”</p><p> </p><p>“Is it?” the angel asked, wide eyed.</p><p> </p><p>Crowley smirked mischievously at him. “You should skip ahead to that chapter if you want to know more. You could go pretty extravagant, but it can also be very very simple.” Crowley ran his finger through the chocolate sauce on Aziraphale’s plate, then teasingly ran a trail from the centre of his throat, along his jaw and up to his ear. He grinned, and tilted his head to the side so Aziraphale could properly admire his work. “And this is the part where you lick it off, in case you were confused.”</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale complied immediately, following the sticky trail with the flat of his tongue, laving over Crowley’s skin several times to get it all before making a snack of the demon’s ear lobe. Crowley sank into the couch, his eyes rolling back and closed, no longer hiding his arousal. </p><p> </p><p>“Good Lord, you’re so devastatingly tempting, darling,” Aziraphale moaned against his throat. “This is not at all what I had planned for tonight.”</p><p> </p><p>“Well then your plans can go hang,” Crowley sighed, tilting his hips up to press against Aziraphale’s. “Even <em> you </em>have to admit this is better than a book.”</p><p> </p><p>“I didn’t plan to read either,” Aziraphale chuckled, running his fingers through Crowley’s hair and scratching that sensitive spot again that always made Crowley melt. “I wanted to take care of you.”</p><p> </p><p>“That sounds promising,” Crowley nodded, excitedly. “Yeah, by all means, Aziraphale. Take care of me.”</p><p> </p><p>“Really?” Aziraphale broke the kiss off, looking surprised and incredibly happy. All at once Crowley realized that this might not be a sex thing. The bloody angel looked so fucking elated he couldn’t very well recant <em> now, </em>so he nodded. He was instantly swept up by tropical storm Aziraphale and carried to the bedroom. He was quickly divested of most of his clothing (promising), but the stripping stopped at his vest and pants and Aziraphale was still fully clothed (suspicious). Aziraphale unfurled his wings gently and wrapped them around the surprised demon. </p><p> </p><p>"Uhhhhmm, What should I do?" Crowley asked, bemused. Feathers surrounded him, sliding across his upper arms and around his back, pulling him closer to the angel. </p><p> </p><p>"Absolutely nothing," Aziraphale whispered, cupping Crowley's cheeks in his soft hands and kissing him gently. "Just relax, my love." </p><p> </p><p><em> Weird </em> , Crowley thought in annoyance. Sitting half naked in bed and the angel was touching him <em> with his wings out </em> and Crowley was supposed to do <em> nothing </em> ? <em> Relax? </em></p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale kissed him softly, gently moving Crowley's head back and threading firm fingers through his hair. Crowley sighed into the kiss when those lovely fingernails started lightly scratching along his scalp. Aziraphale lightly trailed the fingers of his other hand up and down Crowley’s bare arm, or pressed feather-light touches against his cheek, shoulder, collarbone, thigh or knee. The angel touched and kissed and pressed Crowley back until the demon's weight was suspended against the strong wings behind him.</p><p> </p><p><em> Soft, </em> Crowley thought, trembling suddenly as if his demonic nature were wanting to shake off the gentle bliss threatening to overtake him. He made a conscious choice to ignore the impulse to fight and turned his face to the side, feeling the silky cool feathers against his cheek. Aziraphale was pressing soft lips against his wrist. It all felt so stupidly… <em> safe </em>. </p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p> </p><p>The morning sun filtered through a crack between the black-out curtains, drawing Aziraphale's attention away from his book to the way the pale light played across the demon's face. He loved the way Crowley's sharp features softened when he was deeply asleep. He closed his book and rolled onto his side to better admire his lover. Crowley had barely moved all night, no hint of bad dreams. Just the steady puff of breath against his pillow, an occasional hiss or snore. </p><p> </p><p>“I love you,” Aziraphale whispered. Crowley slept on, unfazed. Aziraphale wiggled closer, wishing he could kiss the crease on the demon’s forehead, or trace the freckles along his arm, but he was unwilling to risk waking him. When Crowley showed no sign of waking anytime soon, Aziraphale decided to get up and start making his breakfast. He ate alone, occasionally leaning back to look down the hallway toward the bedroom for any sign of the demon, but there was nothing. </p><p> </p><p>He finished eating and washed up, checked his watch. They’d have to check on Thea soon. He’d hoped to touch base with Crowley again first. He hadn’t expected the poor boy to fall asleep so quickly. He told himself to be flattered, they were building trust. It was good and important… but he was lonely and missed him. </p><p> </p><p>He checked the time again and sighed. He would have to go soon. He’d promised himself he wouldn’t leave Thea to manage alone, and yesterday had been a difficult revelation. A demon. Thea was a demon now.</p><p> </p><p>His hands shook, and Aziraphale took a steadying breath to calm his rage. If he didn’t want to wake Crowley with a kiss or touch, he certainly didn’t want to accidentally wake him through the scent of his anger and fear. </p><p> </p><p>He wrote a hasty note asking Crowley to join them when he was ready, and left it near the coffee maker before leaving the flat. </p><p> </p><p>He wished he knew Crowley’s thoughts on this development. He should have brought it up last night, but Aziraphale wasn’t sure how to be clear about the nature of his dismay, and Crowley could be… defensive about Aziraphale’s impression of demons. It wouldn’t do to have a spat about infernal natures or whatnot when what was really bothering the angel about this was worrying about the possibility that poor girl was <em> damned. </em> Who could he possibly talk to about this aside from Crowley? But how to do so without hurting him? He certainly didn’t blame Crowley for any of this, but would Crowley blame himself? </p><p> </p><p>He knocked politely on Thea’s door and forced himself to smile brightly when she answered.</p><p> </p><p>“What’s wrong?” she asked, worried. Aziraphale sighed, berating himself for not shielding himself better against her abilities. She ushered him inside, then immediately went to the kitchen to start making him tea.</p><p> </p><p>“Nothing’s wrong, dear,” he assured her. “Nothing new anyway. I’m just out of sorts this morning. That’s all.”  Aziraphale sighed again, smiling fondly at her. She truly didn’t deserve any of what was happening to her. He wished there was something he could do to lighten her burden. </p><p> </p><p>He noticed her paints out, and took a peek at her current canvas. It seemed to be the beginning of a portrait of Roan. The rough sketched lines, still visible on most of the piece, with only some of the base colour started.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> She’s an artist, and she likes stories and you have scads of stories about artists. Take her to a bloody gallery, you sodding git. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale smiled to himself. Crowley had come through for him again, the dear sweet thing.</p><p> </p><p>“Thea, dear,” he cleared his throat, and joined her in the kitchen. “How would you feel about joining me at the National Gallery today?”</p><p> </p><p>“I would feel very good about that,” Thea grinned, before taking a bite of her toast. “I visited it the first week I got here, but I didn’t manage to get all the way though.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, and you didn’t attend with an angel who happens to know a number of stories about the artists that aren’t in your texts,” he mentioned, trying to sound casual, but couldn’t help laughing at her excited squeal.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes! Holy shit! Can we go right now?” </p><p> </p><p>“When you’re finished eating, yes.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m done,” she lied. Aziraphale eyed the half piece of toast still on the plate. Still, her enthusiasm was charming and he welcomed the attention... and they could always break to go to the little wine bar nearby for some nibbles part way through.</p><p> </p><p>“Is Crowley coming?” she asked, hurrying to collect her brushes and take them to the sink.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s doubtful,” Aziraphale smirked. “The lazy snake is still sleeping, and he prefers to discuss art half blitzed and fully monstrous. He’s not a fan of galleries.” Aziraphale very much wanted some one on one time with Thea anyway, but everything he’d said <em> was </em> true. Crowley likely wouldn’t want to come. Still… an offer should probably be extended anyway. “We <em> should </em>tell him where we’re headed,” he added. “I left a note telling him to join us here, so he won’t be expecting us to be gone.”</p><p> </p><p>“Is it too early to wake him?” Thea waved her mobile.</p><p> </p><p>“Past time, I should think,” Aziraphale smiled, glad it at least wouldn’t be him doing it.</p><p> </p><p>Thea rang Crowley up, tapping the mobile to speaker, and Aziraphale heard the tinny simulated ring.</p><p> </p><p>“Nh?” Crowley’s voice mumbled after the fifth ring, likely just before it would have clicked over to the answerphone. </p><p> </p><p>“Good morning!” Thea greeted him, spritely. Aziraphale stifled a laugh, picturing how offensive that bright tone must be to a barely-awake Crowley.</p><p> </p><p>“Thhhhea?” the voice was growley now. “You’d better be on fire—”</p><p> </p><p>“Aziraphale’s going to take me to the National Gallery,” Thea cut him off, winking at the angel. “That okay?”</p><p> </p><p>There was a pause on the line. A sleepy groan. Aziraphale could picture Crowley rolling over in bed, rubbing his face with his free hand.</p><p> </p><p>“Hfffff Wot?”</p><p> </p><p>“Aziraphale's here. We’re going to the National Gallery,” Thea repeated, grinning widely. “Do you want to come with us?”</p><p> </p><p>“Fuck no,” Crowley spat. Aziraphale gave an I-told-you-so shrug, secretly relieved. Thea laughed out loud at the sleepy snarkiness and even more so when Crowley snapped “Piss off,” and hung up on her.</p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p> </p><p>Crowley scowled up at the ceiling, feeling fuzzy and confused.</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale was downstairs with Thea? They were going to a gallery? Wasn't he just here kissing him and carding delightful fingers through his hair?! </p><p> </p><p>Glancing at his watch confirmed he'd been asleep for hours, which wasn't the weird thing, what alarmed him was that he'd apparently passed out quickly and seamlessly. </p><p> </p><p>And he'd slept really <em> really </em> well.</p><p> </p><p>"Bollocks. Never gonna hear the end of it," he grumbled to the orchid on the dresser. He stretched out sinuously, annoyed that the angel wasn't here to see it, then rolled over to sulk.</p><p> </p><p>Last night's bedtime activity had been... unexpected but oddly pleasant (he kept himself from admitting it had been <em> nice </em>.) It felt comfortable and satisfying in a way he was very unfamiliar with. </p><p> </p><p>Safe. He felt safe.</p><p> </p><p>A cold creep of dread fell over him once again and once again he had to consciously shake it off. It was dangerous for a demon to feel safe. Complacency was the one vice he could never afford. But that had been because he was alone. The Serpent had to stay vigilant against the plots of his own kind, the machinations of humans, the cunning of his frenemy. </p><p> </p><p>It was so hard to shed that skin. Crowley worried he'd be scraping it on rocks and trees forever. He wasn't alone anymore. Not right now.</p><p> </p><p>Well, actually he <em> was </em> alone right now and that was another problem. He missed the bloody angel but not badly enough to suffer through a gallery at the moment.</p><p> </p><p>He rolled over onto his stomach and buried his face in the pillows. He felt off kilter somehow. He'd had a good night's sleep with no nightmares. He should be more awake now. He wasn't weakened by any measure, he felt the pulse of infernal power thrumming through his bones just as strong as ever. He'd felt better, but he certainly didn't feel terrible.</p><p> </p><p>Right. He'd felt better! Crowley snorted and snickered into the pillow. He was getting as greedy as Aziraphale. Complacent and hedonistic. The angel was a <em> terrible </em> influence.</p><p> </p><p>He flipped over onto his back once more, absently trailing his fingers over his own chest, over his neck, face, hair. He closed his eyes, imagining Aziraphale's soft lips on his shivering skin. He tightened the grip in his hair and pulled, gasping as his body responded immediately.  He smirked at himself. He was ridiculous. He'd lose all his demonic cred if he kept this shit up. Of course, the angel was going to be distracted with Thea at the gallery, and if he knew those two they would be gone <em> all day. </em> And while the angel's away, the demon can get into all manner of mischief. He grinned wickedly, the grin stretching even more as the orchid began to tremble in terror.</p><p> </p><p>Yessssss. Cuddles and kisses and the safety of angel wings were well and good. Teaching and protecting the silly human-demon hybrid with a quick wit and spicy-pine scent felt oddly satisfying. And the orgasms were bloody brilliant.</p><p> </p><p>But Crowley was a demon, damnit, and it was past time he got some balance back in his life.</p><p> </p><p>So, he pulled himself up. Showered and dressed and consumed an unhealthy amount of coffee, smiling over Aziraphale's note.</p><p> </p><p>Then he was off. First he tormented Thea's fox by squeezing a squeaky toy repeatedly outside her flat door while the vermin scratched and squawked in desperation to get to it. </p><p> </p><p>Then he took a stroll through various London parks tossing dish soap into every fountain he crossed.</p><p> </p><p>He stalked a traffic warden on and off during this mission, occasionally switching the tyre boot to another vehicle once they walked away. He felt a particular bit of glee when he moved one to a police patrol car. </p><p> </p><p>When he eventually bored of terrorizing the park he slumped onto a bench near the pond and sank a few ducks. This part wasn't nearly as fun without Aziraphale here to get fussy about it.</p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale finished another story and chuckled, smiling at the ease and delight in the young lady's eyes. She'd been avidly absorbing <em> everything </em>all day. Aziraphale had done his best to keep from directing her too much but in the end it wasn't all that difficult. She all but danced from exhibit to exhibit, occasionally bringing out her small blue sketchbook to jot down some notes or a quick sketch of a particularly interesting piece.</p><p> </p><p>And she never seemed to get bored of Aziraphale's stories, which was a new and wonderful experience for Aziraphale as well. He'd been self-conscious at first, expecting to be interrupted by an eye-roll or derisive snort or rude comment at any moment. He knew he had a tendency to go on about matters he found particularly interesting and it was rare to find someone who was interested in the same thing and keen to hear more. His fellow angels were always scolding him to get to the point, no appreciation for the details. His dear demon had already heard his stories, or would tease or fluster him for sport regardless of whether he was interested or not.</p><p> </p><p>Now they were chatting companionably in the back of a cab on their way back to Mayfair and Aziraphale was a little disappointed the day was over. </p><p> </p><p>Of course, there were other galleries in London. And museums too.</p><p> </p><p>"Thank you for today," Thea said finally, smiling wistfully out the window. "It was really cool of you to give me a break and let me soak up some amazing history and art. I hope it wasn't boring for you."</p><p> </p><p>"Boring!" Aziraphale laughed, surprised. "You thought <em> I </em>was bored? No, dear girl. I assure you, any time you'd like to accompany me to an exhibit and let me talk your ear off, I am most assuredly game."</p><p> </p><p>"I'd like that," she smiled over at him and Aziraphale believed she meant it. "There's so much of the world I'll never get to see. So much I'll never know. I want to grab onto everything I can."</p><p> </p><p>"The world is ever evolving," Aziraphale agreed, sighing at the note of melancholy in Thea's voice. "One couldn't see it all even if one lived forever."</p><p> </p><p>Thea smiled again, casting a quick glance at the cabbie who was studiously ignoring them. </p><p> </p><p>"It would definitely help," she teased, then returned to looking out her window.</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale offered her a hand out of the cab once they arrived at Crowley's building. She grinned, started to say something and then stopped, her eyes widening as she caught sight of something on the balconies above them. </p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale spun, heart in his throat, ready to protect her from attack, but the only demon lurking nearby was Crowley. He was watching them from his balcony, expressionless and still as death. The setting sun reflected off his dark glasses, and crimson hair, giving both an eerie glow. Aziraphale stared at him nervously at first, worried something was wrong. Then Crowley began to smile, slow and wicked, and Aziraphale's heart sped up a tick even as he harrumphed and shook his head.</p><p> </p><p>He turned and paid the driver, sending him on his way with a small blessing. Aziraphale had had a great day and was in a good mood. Thea seemed happy, and Crowley was clearly being troublesome, which meant Crowley was happy as well.</p><p> </p><p>"Whatcha doing, you spooky jerk?" Thea called up to the demon, grinning. Crowley's smirk didn't change. He leered down at them, then slowly drifted inside. Thea's eyes widened in mock fear and she turned to Aziraphale.</p><p> </p><p>"That can't be good."</p><p> </p><p>"He appears to be in a particularly wicked mood," Aziraphale nodded, smiling.</p><p> </p><p>"What do you recommend?" she asked, holding the lobby door for him. </p><p> </p><p>"Thank you kindly, dear," he murmured, entering the building. "I think it might be best to let an angel handle it. Will you be all right for the rest of the evening?"</p><p> </p><p>"Yeah. I'll let Roan out for some exercise in the courtyard and then do some painting. I'm really feeling inspired tonight."</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale called the lift. "You'll call if you need anything? We'll be just upstairs."</p><p> </p><p>"I will," she promised. "And I'll be okay. I'll see you both tomorrow though?"</p><p> </p><p>"Of course," Aziraphale nodded.</p><p> </p><p>The lift stopped at the 7th floor and Thea stepped out with a wave and another earnest thanks for the day. Aziraphale smiled warmly as the door slid closed, and was smiling still when he came to Crowley's door and remembered that a 'spooky jerk' was waiting somewhere within. </p><p> </p><p>His heart drumming in his chest, Aziraphale opened the door.</p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p> </p><p>The door opened. Crowley listened, every muscle held taught in preternatural stillness. He waited.</p><p> </p><p>“Crowley?” Aziraphale’s voice floated to him down the corridor, wary but amused. “Do you really think this is going to go well for you, darling? The game isn’t called ‘Carpe Angel’, my sweet.”</p><p> </p><p>‘It could be,’ Crowley thought with a wicked grin. </p><p> </p><p>The angel was cocky. Complacent.</p><p> </p><p><em> Come and find me then… </em> he whispered into Aziraphale’s mind. He felt the uneasy surprise in response to Crowley’s demonic suggestion. <em> Forgot I could do thisss, did you angel? </em></p><p> </p><p>“Wily thing,” Aziraphale scolded, lightly, slowly coming further into the flat. “Are you in the tub again? I almost hope you are. I could use a hot soak. I’ve been on my feet all day.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Why don’t you check and ssssee? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“You goose. Stop trying to frighten me and come out,” Aziraphale laughed. “I want to kiss you.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Tempting. I do like your kissesss. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Well?” Aziraphale called out, finally stepping into the sitting room directly under where Crowley was lying on the ceiling in wait, hidden behind the cement support beam. He dropped, striking Aziraphale heavily across the upper back and sending the angel sprawling out onto the floor under him. Aziraphale gave a delightful shout of surprise and Crowley cackled evilly pinning the angel down and nipping at his ear playfully.</p><p> </p><p>“You left me alone all day,” Crowley muttered, nosing across the nape of the angel’s neck. “I’ve been forced to return to my evil ways out of sheer boredom.”</p><p> </p><p>“Crowley, you fiend,” Aziraphale grumbled. “Let me up this instant.”</p><p> </p><p>“But you’re ssssoooo comfy,” Crowley sighed, stretching out atop him dramatically. “Feelsss so good, Angel,” he added, softly rutting his hips against Aziraphale’s soft bum. “I think I like you here.”</p><p> </p><p>“Hmm,” Aziraphale hummed and smiled. Crowley kissed his cheek gently.</p><p> </p><p>“Missed you,” he whispered, kissing his jaw, then his temple. “Want you,” he growled, sucking his earlobe between his lips.</p><p> </p><p>“Crowley, darling,” Aziraphale gasped. “You <em> will </em> let me up, right now.”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley considered it, propping himself up on his elbows, still laying astride the angel. Aziraphale didn’t look to be in any distress. </p><p> </p><p>“You safewording out?” Crowley asked, because he <em> hadn’t </em> but Crowley was never sure the angel fully accepted that he <em> could </em>.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, my dear,” Aziraphale chuckled. “<em> I’m </em> not the one who will be in need of a safeword. You have five seconds to let me up.”</p><p> </p><p>“Shit, that’s hot,” Crowley snickered, flicking his forked tongue against Aziraphale’s neck. “Love it when you use that low dark voice, Angel. You’re sexy as anything.”</p><p> </p><p>He tried to kiss Aziraphale’s neck again, but suddenly the angel was out of reach. Aziraphale casually rolled onto his back to smile up at Crowley as the demon continued to float up out of reach.</p><p> </p><p>“Erm… Please tell me you’re doing this,” Crowley begged, trying but failing to right himself now that physics was disobeying him. “Because if this is some new version of Thea’s spooney fuckering we’re in trouble.”</p><p> </p><p>“All me, my dear,” Aziraphale assured him, calmly coming back to standing. Crowley found himself set upright as well, floating before the angel, his arms and legs being stretched out straight. Crowley tried to struggle his way free but his limbs were frozen in place. He shot the smug angel a mock glare.</p><p> </p><p>He could snap his way free. He could.</p><p> </p><p>But this was getting pretty interesting.</p><p> </p><p>“What’s the game called, dear?” Aziraphale asked sweetly, twisting his hand in Crowley’s scarf and winching him closer.</p><p> </p><p>“Carpe demon,” Crowley groaned in happy defeat as their lips met.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Sushi and Antigravity sex can be found over at Carpe Demon series. Clickity the Linkity.<br/><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26863939">Tripping Over Air</a></p><p>Hopefully the linkity works *crosses fingers*</p><p>If not, The fic is till up. Tripping Over Air.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. Salt And Smoke</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Hastur makes his move. It is highly effective.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>So it might be worth mentioning that things are going to get a bit intense as we approach the climax of this fic.</p>
<p>If you are sensitive you might do well to review the tags. I don't like to give spoilers, but mental health is super important and I don't want to fuck anyone up (too much).</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>All we do is play it safe</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>All we do is live inside a cage</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>All we do is play it safe</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>All we do, all we do</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>All I did was fail today</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>All I wanna be is whites and waves</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>All I did was fail today</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>All we do, all we do</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span class="u">
    <em>
      <span>All We Do</span>
    </em>
  </span>
  <em>
    <span> by</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span> Oh Wonder</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The breeze was particularly bitter today, but in the shelter of the taller apartment buildings it wasn’t too bad. Thea pulled her hood up as she and Roan strolled around the courtyard towards the parking lot. They usually stopped to hang out with Ben during their walks and Thea had some sketches to replace after Crowley’s theft.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hiya, Ben,” Thea smiled, running her hand along the Bentley’s hood. She reached into her satchel for her sketchbook and pencil case. “Your jerk of an owner stole my drawings so we’re gonna have to start all over again. Luckily you’re such a professional model. You’re so good at staying still for me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>The wind picked up a tick, lifting an old flyer from the pavement and blowing it across the lot. Roan took off after it, squeaking and snapping. Thea smiled at the simple joy and sat on the curb to sketch Ben’s hood ornament. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You really are a beautiful car,” she told Ben. “I don’t know a damn thing about cars, but you’re pretty. Don’t tell Crowley I said that though, because he’d probably hate that we’re friends.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Roan trotted up to her and handed her the faded flyer. She was incredibly pleased with herself. Thea scratched her ears and rewarded her with a milkbone from her pocket. She checked the time quickly and determined that she had another twenty minutes before she’d need to go back in. Crowley and Aziraphale rarely showed up before 11 a.m. So Thea liked to use her mornings for art and playing with Roan. It was good to stretch her legs and get some fresh air before having to deal with whatever new development of her worsening ‘condition’. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Aziraphale liked to call it a ‘condition’. As if she were sick. As if she could someday get better.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The demon side was winning. Aziraphale didn’t know what exactly that meant or how it would affect her in the long run, but he was a shit at hiding his concern and Thea couldn’t see how it would be a good thing. There’d be worse things than being like Crowley, she thought, but what if she wasn’t? What if she was something evil, or dangerous? She remembered the way she’d felt after pulling in all that demonic energy to quell the hellfire, lost to herself in all that fear and hatred. She’d wanted to hurt Aziraphale.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She wasn’t stupid enough to think she’d actually be a threat to the angel, or to Crowley, assuming he was conscious, but what about another human? Would they have to put her down? Was that how she’d die now?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She didn’t think she could imagine a worse scenario than dissolving into bloody goo, but that might be it. The goo was humiliating but being put down by Aziraphale or Crowley was just... sad.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Something smacked against the wooden privacy fence behind her and Roan jumped in alarm. Someone groaned and then there were footsteps running away.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Stop,” a man’s voice shouted, pained, upset.  Thea was on her feet, rushing to the street to get around the fence. A young man was lying awkwardly, holding his ribs and gasping. Thea started forward, then paused. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Red light.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Demon stink,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Roan concurred. Thea eased away back to the sidewalk, pulling out her phone. She thumbed down to Crowley’s number when the phone was yanked out of her hand.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Go!</span>
  </em>
  <span> she ordered Roan and the fox shot off without hesitation. Thea backed away from the demon, amazed she hadn’t been tipped off immediately by its stupid bunny-eared hair. She was about to say so when she bumped into the demon’s twin.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“‘Allo luv,” the first one said. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“We’re ‘ere to bring ya to Lord Hastur,” the second one grinned.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Be a good girl and come along quietly, yeah?” they said as one.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“No thanks,” Thea squeaked, thinking furiously. Her heart raced in her chest and she could taste ozone on her tongue but squeezed her hands into fists, resisting the urge to bring down the sky.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Crowley had been clear about hiding her lightning powers for as long as possible. Discorporated demons would just show back up in Hell and report what they saw. They’d lose the element of surprise, and that was really her only card at this point. So she let out a breath and swallowed the ozone. She wouldn’t play that card yet.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Spoons on the other hand, that was beyond her control. A number of them started to drop as she darted to the side, managing to evade the one swipe as she hauled ass back up the parking lot toward the building. There was </span>
  <em>
    <span>another one</span>
  </em>
  <span> near the door, forcing her to pivot and change course, the other two still on her tail. She made for the fence, hoping to be able to summon up some muscle memory from her track and field days (and hoping they didn’t do track and field in Hell) and scale that fucker before they grabbed her.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She jumped, grabbing the top of the fence and pulling herself up. She heard them right behind her but then there was a crunch and a scream.  Thea swung her leg over the fence and looked back long enough to see that the Bentley had somehow rolled forward and pinned one of the bunny demons against the fence. The car alarm went off and it was the loudest one she’d ever heard.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Crowley?” she called out, her voice dwarfed by the blaring alarm. She figured he must be behind that collision but there was no sign of the Serpent and she was losing ground. Dropping on the other side she tore across the street toward the park. A cab was pulled over by the corner and she managed to get to it, wrenching open the door and sliding in.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Someone’s chasing me! Please drive!” she all but screamed at the cabby who pulled off immediately. Thea nearly wept with relief when a green light bloomed around the driver. Thea looked over her shoulder and saw the two remaining demons slow their gait as she drove off.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Want me to take you to the cop shop?” the cabby asked, eyes wide in alarm. Thea chewed her lip, fighting her panic and trying to think. Would the police be able to protect her or would she just be putting a precinct in harm’s way if Hastur showed up? Would she be able to hide there without filling out a report? She wasn’t even sure she was supposed to still be in the country! What a fucking mess. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Think think think.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Berkley and Charles,” she gasped out. He nodded and proceeded to navigate the streets in the breakneck barely legal way of cabbies everywhere.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It was Monday.  Salt and Smoke would be closed to diners, but Lynn would be there doing inventory and going over her orders. It would be hard to explain but it might be the easiest place to hide out and she’d no doubt let Thea use her phone. The cab pulled up and Thea reached for her wallet, her hands shaking so badly she nearly dropped it. The cabby shook his head.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t worry about it. Just go be safe,” he told her. Thea thanked him and all but fell out of the car in her haste to see Lynn’s friendly face. She hauled open the door, yelped and went sprawling as something snagged her on her way into the restaurant. She turned around in horror, but there was nothing there, and the feeling subsided as soon as she’d passed the threshold.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>One of the dark bunny demons was watching her from across the street. She slammed the door shut and locked it, calling out for Lynn. This was bad. This was really really bad.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thea?” Lynn joined her near the door, gently touching her shaking shoulders. “My God, luv. What’s happened?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Lynn had always had this calming presence around her. It was such an unusual characteristic for someone in the culinary industry, which was what made the turnover so low at Salt &amp; Smoke. But even Lynn’s natural aura of calm couldn’t quell Thea’s panic.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Is anyone else here?” Thea demanded, leading Lynn to the back. “You have to get out.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s just me, Thea,” Lynn assured her, her eyes wide with alarm. She glanced back towards the door, slowing her steps, even as Thea tried to pull her along. “Who’s following you?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I wish I could explain but you wouldn’t believe me,” Thea cried. “Please you have to —”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Is it demons?” Lynn asked, perfectly seriously. Thea nearly collapsed in her fear and confusion. Lynn’s usual vibrant green light seemed to thrum with energy. Thea stared at her and nodded once.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Right. Behind the counter then,” Lynn ordered. Thea obeyed instantly, unsure exactly what was happening, but not one to argue with the person taking charge right now. Lynn placed her palm against the dining room wall and mumbled </span>
  <em>
    <span>something</span>
  </em>
  <span> that caused a ripple of elemental power to emanate through the restaurant. Parts of Thea lit up in pain for a moment, inexplicably, like a muscle spasm, before she quickly grounded herself again. If she survived this she’d really have to apologize to Az for making such a fuss about all the boring Empathy homework.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Demon’s aren’t permitted on the premises,” Lynn told her. “I’m not as powerful as my ancestors in many ways but wards have always been my forte. I’ve made an exception for your friend because of the company he keeps and he tips well, but even he wouldn’t be able to get  in here now.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Thea continued to stare at her. Lynn </span>
  <em>
    <span>knew?</span>
  </em>
  <span> How much did Lynn know? Is that why she let Crowley and Az take her home that day? Did she somehow arrange for Thea to get the help she needed?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“How?” she choked. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You’ve learned that angels and demons are real, luv,” Lynn shrugged. “So are witches. It’s a whole other thing though and…” Lynn trailed off as the bunny demon kicked in the door. Thea shouted in surprise and fear, trying to pull Lynn away to the back. With any luck one of the duplicates wouldn’t already be guarding the rear entrance. Lynn stood her ground though. The demon smirked and stepped into the bistro, laughing mockingly before hitting an invisible wall. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Nope, No!” Lynn scolded it, sounding for the life of her like she was yelling at a bad dog. “You’re not coming in here, so just go back where you bloody came from.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Not without the mutt,” the demon grumbled. “Lord Hastur’s already on ‘is way and ‘e tends to melt us if we disappoint so…” he tried to enter again, pushing at the boundary of the wards.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Can you hold them off?” Thea asked nervously. She didn’t really understand what was happening and didn’t want to get cocky. Aziraphale hadn’t covered </span>
  <em>
    <span>witches </span>
  </em>
  <span>in his lectures. Maybe that’s second year occult studies material.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span> “Him maybe,” Lynn responded evenly. “Never tested my wards against anything called a ‘Lord’ though so...you should really call in the bigger guns.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Right,” Thea gulped, and reached for the phone on the counter. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>*****</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Wouldya quit badgerin’ me?” Crowley snarled over his shoulder. “How the bloody Heaven should I know what the blazes is happening anymore! I’m just as cut off as you are, you know!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Aziraphale followed Crowley into the kitchen, determined to badger him into perpetuity it seemed. They’d been bickering over Thea’s (apparent) demonic nature for over an hour and Crowley was rapidly losing his temper. He didn’t agree with Aziraphale’s conclusion that Thea was a demon. He certainly didn’t agree with the assumption that she was therefore damned. And the idea that Crowley was somehow supposed to do something about all this was infuriating!</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I wasn’t suggesting you return to Hell for intel, Crowley,” Aziraphale snapped. “Only I thought you might be capable of sitting still and actually </span>
  <em>
    <span>thinking </span>
  </em>
  <span>for once if a young woman’s immortal soul happened to be on the line.” Crowley winced at that, covering the facial tic with another snarl. Aziraphale didn’t seem to notice and continued to bawl out the demon who now had no greater ambition for the day than making this highly important cup of coffee. Distractions. Keep his hands busy so he doesn’t wrap them around the angel’s throat and squeeze.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>You’re</span>
  </em>
  <span> the demon here, Crowley,” Aziraphale reminded him unnecessarily. “What do </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> suppose it means then that the girl has black scaled claws, fangs, slitted pupils, and can survive being covered in Hellfire? All I can say for certain is that it didn’t seem particularly angelic.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“This isn’t my fault!” Crowley yelled, giving up on the coffee and flinging the whole pot into the sink with a wet crack.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Aziraphale blinked, both hands pressed to his waistcoat in alarm, before the angry flush returned. “Crowley?” his rebuke was almost a whisper. The angel moved forward slowly, pressing Crowley back against the refrigerator. Crowley wished he hadn’t thrown the pot like that. It was too much, robbed him of his high ground, and was making Aziraphale look dangerous. His back nudged up against the stainless steel. Aziraphale took hold of his hands, firmly but gently.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Who said any of this was your fault?” Aziraphale asked him. There was silence then, and Crowley realized the bloody angel was waiting for an answer. Crowley was finding it hard to think. He wasn’t really sure why he’d said that. He hadn’t meant to. He was just so bloody angry and Aziraphale wouldn’t stop pestering him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s what you think, innit?” Crowley grumbled, pulling his hands back so he could cross his arms over his chest defensively. “It’s what you’ve been grousing about all morning.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It isn’t,” Aziraphale gave an exasperated sigh. “Can you please stop sulking and talk to me? No wonder you’ve been so pig headed. Nothing turns your brain off faster than self pity.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Scales,” Crowley growled. “Slitted pupils,” he added, spitefully. “You’re the one bringing that shit up.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Because it’s definitive proof of how much she’s changed!” Aziraphale glared at him. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Beez doesn’t have scales,” Crowley hissed. “Or slitted pupils. But sure, I’m crazy to think maybe this is a little my fault.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Exactly,” Aziraphale smirked, crossing his arms. “You think this is your fault. No one else. And, might I add, you’re being spectacualy stupid.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Crowley scoffed, but was slightly mollified by Aziraphale’s lighter tone as the angel went on. “Anything you contributed to her condition would be no more than what I myself have. You’ve never done anything but try to help her.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Doesn’t seem like it though,” Crowley sighed. He could hear Thea's fox shrieking on the street outside and rubbed his temples in irritation. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Bloody insufferable animal.</span>
  </em>
  <span> “And now you’re talking ‘bout damnation... I don’t even know if she’s a demon, Aziraphale! How could she be? We don’t make demons outta humans.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“She’s descended from Nephilim. I suspected the Ethereal genes were reactivated by Gabriel and Beelzebub, so she’s never been fully human,” Aziraphale reminded him. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“But I don’t have any more information than you do, Angel,” Crowley argued. “I admit that she’s evolving into something, but why does it have to be a demon? She’s got to be at least half angel, right?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“She isn’t showing any specific angelic traits,” Aziraphale sighed, and Crowley suspected that was a bit part of what was annoying the angel. He wanted Thea to take after him. Well Crowley would have preferred that too.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“She healed that bloke at the restaurant,” Crowley pointed out, half distracted now by the obnoxious yapping of that bloody fox. Why was it carrying on still? </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“She likely zapped his heart back into rhythm,” Aziraphale shrugged. “She managed to heal herself some, but demons can heal themselves as well.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Shut up a minute," Crowley hissed, listening.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I absolutely will not!" Aziraphale snapped. "And I told you I won't tolerate that —"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Shut it," Crowley shushed again. "Listen. What is—"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Suddenly there was a loud blaring alarm coming from the parking lot. Shouldn't be any cars there except the Bentley and it didn't need an alarm. Aziraphale frowned, finally aware of the distant cacophony. Crowley raced to the bedroom and threw open the curtains peering out into the courtyard below. He could see part of the lot too, in particular the front end of the Bentley, pinning one of the fucking disposables against the fence. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Shit!" He shot back to the kitchen. "Move your arse, Angel. We got demons outside... Angel?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Aziraphale had moved out to the balcony and hadn't heard him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Crowley! Something's wrong. Roan's on the street below and I don't see Thea!"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Crowley snapped his fingers and appeared on the street with the fox. It opened its sharp mouth and shrieked at him, wild eyed and ruffled. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"This is your fucking Lassie moment, vermin," he growled at the animal. “Prove to me you're not useless."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Roan shot off around the building. Crowley looked up to snark at the angel who was hesitating on the balcony before chasing the fox.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He slowed when he came around to the Bentley, not wanting to appear frantic in front of the other demon. The disposible was sitting on the bonnet (un-fucking-forgivable) trying to pull his crushed leg free. He sneered when he saw Crowley coming, but his eyes looked nervous. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Good.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What the bloody fuck did you do to my car?” Crowley hissed. The fox was running around the front of the car now, trying to snap at the demon, teeth flashing. The Disposable pulled his other leg away from the beast, torn between threats.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t have long to be worried about your car,” he answered, trying to look smug and failing. He knew he wasn’t making it out of this alive and was trying to save face. Normally Crowley would have no patience for it, but the Disposables weren’t the brightest bunch and loved to talk. There was a chance this one might have something interesting to say. “Lord Hastur has your number, Crowley. You’re in a right heap of shit and don’t even know it.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Nyeh,” Crowley leaned against the Bentley. “Doubt it, if he’s sending you lot after me. Not much of a threat there.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Maybe not while you’re hiding behind your bloody </span>
  <em>
    <span>angel</span>
  </em>
  <span>,’ the demon snorted. “But we’re not here for you, Crowley. Not yet.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah yeah yeah yeah,” Crowley rolled his eyes. “Very scary. You’ve chased off my human charge. Oh no. I’m shaking in my boots.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Aziraphale appeared beside him finally, looking flustered until his icy blue gaze sharpened on the other demon. All the fussiness bled out of the angel at once, leaving only a cold hard fury Crowley hoped to never —</span>
  <em>
    <span>ever— </span>
  </em>
  <span> see aimed </span>
  <em>
    <span>his </span>
  </em>
  <span>way.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah, speak of the divine entity,” Crowley smiled. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Where is Thea?” Aziraphale rumbled, the build of holy energy palpable to both demons now. Crowley had to fight the hind-brain instinct to retreat from the Principality. The disposable shrank back as far as his crushed leg would allow. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re too late. Hastur’s topside. He’s got her well in hand by now,” he snarled.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Aziraphale raised his hand, a sharp unnatural light drawing into his fingers.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Wait! Don’t! Not on the—” Crowley yelped. Aziraphale smoted the living shit out of the disposable, who barely had a chance to scream before being burned to ash. “ — car! Ugh, fucking hell,” Crowley grumbled. That was going to take forever to buff out.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Where could she be?” Aziraphale fretted, already whirling on to the next task and pulling Crowley away from inspecting his paint job. “It sounded like they hadn’t managed to capture her yet. Where would she go?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Fox,” Crowley snapped, scooping the animal up by its scruff. For a wonder, it didn’t even scream at him, so intent pointing with its snout vaguely south.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Roan can sense her! Of course!” Aziraphale exclaimed, taking the fox from Crowley and setting her down. “We can follow her.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The fox looked up at them then, and pointedly stared at the Bentley.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“If this is just you wanting a fucking car ride, I will wring your bloody neck,” Crowley growled at the creature before stomping around to the driver’s side. “Get in, Angel. This yappy pest better deliver.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>*****</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Thea grabbed for the phone and started to dial, thankful that she’d had the forethought to memorize Crowley’s cell number instead of trusting it to her phone. After the unfortunate melting incident during the storm, it seemed prudent, and ta-da. Here she was sans phone again. Thank you Girl Guides for teaching her the importance of always being prepared.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Except there hadn’t been a badge for dialing phones while being crushed under the psychic weight of a Lord of Hell’s rage and hatred.  Thea had barely punched in the first two numbers before a wave of heavy nausea and cold dropped her to her knees. She dry heaved, agonized by the assault, her vision swimming in and out of focus.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She felt more than saw it, as Lynn tried to help her to her feet. The chef was murmuring calming words that neither of them believed. That was when Thea heard the voice.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It was low, and mean. The kind of voice that made her think of maggots bubbling under carrion flesh. It further robbed her of strength, and Thea shook with the realization that she was </span>
  <em>
    <span>nothing</span>
  </em>
  <span> in the scheme of things. That’s why the Prince and the Archangel felt entitled to mess with her. That’s why she wasn’t able to do anything but run like the jackrabbit she was, even after all the lessons.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She’d thought she was getting somewhere, with her little flimsy powers. Now, as she looked out the open door at a literal Lord of literal Hell, she understood those powers didn’t amount to anything.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“There she is,” the pale demon grinned a black toothed smile. “The mongrel.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Go on,” Lynn whispered harshly, pushing Thea behind her. “Go out the back.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Thea clutched onto Lynn’s arm. What was she going to do? The woman had </span>
  <em>
    <span>kids</span>
  </em>
  <span> for fuck’s sakes. She should be first out the door!</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll hold him off long as I can,” Lynn assured her. “Go.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Lynn, Your —”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Lynn winced as Hastur ran his hand along the barrier of her wards. He smiled wickedly and flung himself against it. Both women watched in horror as he dissolved into a towering mountain of squirming maggots, pressing against the entrance. The wood began to creak and Lynn gritted her teeth, perspiration beading at her temples at the effort to keep the monster out.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Run,” she gasped, and Thea did. God, please, somebody forgive her, she ran. She tore through the kitchen, snatching up a chef’s knife and slammed into the rear door, pawing at the lock. She flung it open and momentarily froze when the bunny demon waved at her cheerily from the alley. She staggered back, hands shaking, but she gripped her knife wondering if it was possible to threaten a demon.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Crowley had once assured her that most demons were dumb as dog shit and proof that evolution can go in reverse. Maybe she could — </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Thea tore her eyes away from the demon at the unimaginably loud crash from the front of the restaurant. Her heart stuttered in her chest as she looked back, second guessing her impulse to run. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And then Lynn screamed. It was a long, full-throated wail of agony and terror. The power of it ripped through Thea with the momentum of a truck tire smashing through a windshield on the 401. Time fractured. Thea felt her knees buckle and she was falling again. A dark hand grabbed her arm and pulled her toward the alley door. It smelled like rotted fish. Thea swung the knife in a desperate arc and pulled away, flicking the tip of the blade across the demon’s throat. It’s dark eyes widened in surprise and it let go of her to hold its gushing neck closed with both hands. Thea felt sick. She tried to move around the dying demon when another hand clamped on her shoulder like a vise. This one was pale and smelled like stagnant bog water. The revulsion and fear welling in Thea were insurmountable now as she looked down at those filthy fingers and saw bright red blood rolling off the tips, soaking into her hoodie. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Mongrel,” the Duke of Hell growled again. Pain bloomed sharp and jarring across the back of her head; Thea gasped half a breath and was gone into the black.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>*****</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>In all the terrifying rides Aziraphale has suffered in the Bentley, bemoaning the demon’s penchant for breakneck speed and near misses of pedestrians and vehicles alike, the angel never thought once he could be sitting here thinking </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘faster, please.’</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>This had been a year of so many firsts.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They flew down streets, around corners, Crowley alternating between clenching the steering wheel in a white-knuckled grip, and accelerating in the straight-aways, or spinning the wheel furiously so that Aziraphale and Roan were slammed into either the door or the demon, depending on the direction. Aziraphale barely felt any of it, so focused on which way the fox was pointing in order to give Crowley directions, while also miracling a path for the roaring Bentley, in hopes of not accruing too much carnage during this rescue mission. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They hadn’t been in the vehicle long before they’d crossed through Mayfair, and something changed. Roan gave a sick little bark and shook all over in Aziraphale’s lap. Her large black ears flattened to her skull and she mewled.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Which way!” Crowley demanded, but Aziraphale wasn’t sure. Roan was no longer pointing, and the thought of what that could mean was paralyzing.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Angel! Which way!” Crowley snapped.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“She’s lost her,” Aziraphale cried, looking out the window now, trying to orient himself. “Wait. Aren’t we near — “</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, You’re right,” Crowley cut him off and slammed the breaks (forcing Aziraphale to perform three miracles all at once to avoid collisions), then performing an impossible U-turn in a far too narrow street, cutting off a bus, before screaming back up the street the way they came. Salt &amp; Smoke was one street over, and seemed a likely place for Thea to seek refuge. Aziraphale chewed his lip and hugged Roan closer to his chest, feeling her little heartbeat drum rapidly against his fingers.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>What did it mean that Roan lost her signal? Aziraphale couldn’t help fearing the worst. He’d failed her so many times already. He didn’t want to risk treating her like a prisoner, but was it a mistake to even allow her walks in the courtyard unattended?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Obviously yes. Obviously. Damn him for not being stricter. This is what comes from being soft. He was so wrapped up in trying to nurture her, be her friend and mentor. Worse than that, he’d wanted to be adulated. He wanted her to like him. It wasn’t purely selfish, of course. He wanted to teach her, heal her, guide her. He wanted to get her through this not only alive, but as untraumatized as possible. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But he was her guardian. That should have been his most important goal. Keep her safe first. Happy second. Instead he’d once again left her alone when he knew there was a risk of Hell’s minions being about. Crowley had reminded him that Hastur knew where he lived. They knew Hastur was planning something. There was no real reason to believe Gabriel had solved anything on their behalf. How could he have risked letting her out of his sight for even a moment! How could he have been so unforgivably stupid!</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Keep your head, Angel,” Crowley warned, beside him. The demon slid his hand over Aziraphale’s knee before returning to the gear shift. “I can hear you screaming at yourself from here. I’m doing it too, but there’s no time for it now.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Aziraphale swallowed and nodded, trying to focus on the storefronts as the Bentley slowed and Crowley double parked in front of Salt and Smoke. The door to the bistro looked to have been smashed inwards, and was hanging half in splinters off the frame.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Looks to be the place,” Crowley said grimly, and Aziraphale tried to exit the car, blind in his haste, and only bashed the door into the side of the Lexus beside them. Crowley winced at the damage, but was blessedly too focused on the matter at hand to fuss about it. He opened his own door, swearing as Roan immediately scampered across his lap to escape. The demon was out right behind the fox, leaving the door open for Aziraphale to extricate himself. After a half-hearted attempt to climb over the gearbox, he snapped his fingers and brought himself to the pavement outside the bistro as Crowley stepped up on the kerb. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They listened for a moment, but the Bistro was silent except for Roan’s fussy sounds. The fox hadn’t hesitated before running in. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Fucking load of brimstone here,” Crowley hissed. “And blood. Be careful.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Aziraphale nodded, heart in his throat, and stepped into the restaurant. His eyes traced over the evidence of an infernal struggle. Leftover maggots squished under his shoes along with the crunch of broken glass and wood. Tables had been flung out to the sides piled along the walls, half into the shattered booths. It looked like a concussive bomb had exploded here.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Shit! I can’t—"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Aziraphale glanced over his shoulder at Crowley. The demon seemed to have been stymied by something at the entrance, hovering with one foot, unable to cross the threshold. “This place has a bloody strong ward on it!” he exclaimed. “Angel, I can’t cross. You better come outta there.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Aziraphale wasn’t particularly pleased at the prospect of being alone in here, and the matter of the wards was more than a little confounding, but he had to know if Thea was here. He gave Crowley a light smile, earning a growl of frustration in return, then squared his shoulders bravely and stepped further into the bistro.  He could hear Roan’s whimpering somewhere in the back, but something tugged at him in the direction of the heavy front counter. He hurried there first, and gasped in alarm at the sight of poor Lynn, the owner of this dear establishment.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She lay crumpled on the floor where she’d been apparently flung, twisted and bloody, and somehow still alive, if barely. Aziraphale dropped to his knees beside her and gently set her back down properly. Her spine was broken in several places. “Oh, you poor brave thing,” Aziraphale whispered, pulling down the power he needed for this miracle.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Aziraphale!” Crowley shouted from outside, obviously not caring for the angel having ducked out of sight. “What’s happening! Come out of there, you bleeding idiot! </span>
  <em>
    <span>Please</span>
  </em>
  <span>!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m all right, Crowley,” Aziraphale called back, trying to concentrate on healing the poor woman. “It’s Lynn. She’s badly hurt and I’m…” he trailed off when he felt the woman begin to stabilize and a pulse of magic flare between them. She opened her eyes, confused and unfocussed.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Thea… She’s...They…”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You’ll be all right,” Aziraphale assured her. “We’ll call you an ambulance. I’m afraid you’ve been attacked and …” he prattled on, the usual comforting obfuscations he’d relied on whenever he’d had to step in and heal someone in the past. He should have known by the vibrant pulse of magic around them that he needn’t bother this time.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Heal me, please,” she groaned. “So I can drop the wards and let your boyfriend in. They’re not doing any good now.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Chagrin that the owner of one of their favourite restaurants has been a witch this whole time and he hadn’t known warred with his chagrin that <em>she</em> apparently knew that he was an angel and that Crowley was a demon this whole time. He wasn’t at all used to that. He grumbled a little under his breath as he healed her the rest of the way. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He might have been able to maintain a bit of a longer sulk if the woman didn’t throw her arms around him in relief as soon as she was able to. The hug was earnest and there was a strong companionable connection between them, one giver of comfort to another. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She pulled away, looking stricken, gasping out a quick thank you before she crawled over to the nearest wall to drop the wards. “It's safe now,” she breathed, collapsing to rest her back against the wall.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Crowley, the wards are gone,” Aziraphale called out. He heard the crunch of the demon’s boots on broken glass as the demon ran to them. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“All right?” he demanded, looking between them. Aziraphale nodded, Lynn shook her head.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I couldn’t stop him,” she moaned. “The horrible pale one. Hastur. He just blew through my wards. I barely slowed him down. I’m sorry. I tried.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Crowley took off again down the narrow corridor towards where the kitchen must have been. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Thea!” the demon’s shout sounded furious, terrified. There was no answering call. Aziraphale stayed by Lynn’s side, gently supporting the witch while she composed herself.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“How long have you known about us?” he asked quietly, still staring off in the direction Crowley had run. It shouldn’t matter at a time like this, but being suspicious of coincidences was a trait he was picking up from his demon.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Since you two first came in,” she confirmed. “This is my restaurant. My place of <em>w</em></span>
  <em>
    <span>ork</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” she said the word ‘work’ in a way that heavily hinted at more than culinary arts. “You might have been able to hide your bloody huge auras if we were out in the wilds, but this is my territory, angel. I warded the place like mad after your visit.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“But Crowley could still enter?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Only him,” she shrugged. “Figured if he was in love with an angel, and vice versa, he probably wasn’t all that evil. I mean, I still serve </span>
  <em>
    <span>bankers</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You never said anything,” Aziraphale frowned.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Not my place. You deserve your privacy as much as anyone else,” she sighed. “But when Thea showed up, I could tell something was different about her. She was special. She needed your help.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Did you orchestrate our meeting?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“No. I just offered lemon curd cheesecake,” Lynn smiled weakly. “All I did was tell her to trust you.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Fat lot of good that’s done,” Crowley snarled, coming back down the hall with Roan padding at his heels.  “She’s gone. Hastur’s got her.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Aziraphale stood and reached for the demon, hoping to pull him into a comforting embrace, but Crowley was nearly vibrating with fury and wouldn't allow himself to be held still. Aziraphale let his arm drop as the redhead twisted away, gnashing his sharp teeth. Roan settled down between Aziraphale’s feet, dejected. This was very bad. No wonder the animal had lost Thea’s signal.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’d been terrified that meant the girl was dead. This somehow felt even worse.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Thea had been stolen away to Hell.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. Courage</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Aziraphale and Crowley's search for answers about Thea's abduction only lead to a disturbing realization, one that threatens to send Crowley spiraling all over again. </p><p>When Hastur's plan comes to fruition, someone is going to pay the ultimate price.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>CW: There is some sadness incoming. </p><p>I'm currently writing the last chapter and vacillating between adding an epilogue or not. So there might end up being 21 chapters when this is over. We will see. I have a lot of words and very little self control.</p><p>Also I can't believe this fic is almost over. OMG! Thanks to everyone who has been reading and encouraging me. Thanks as always too to my faithful beta/cheerleader PinkPenguinParade (who is also an awesome writer and you should check out her stuff and give her some love.)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>There's no simple explanation</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>For anything important any of us do</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And yeah, the human tragedy</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Consists in the necessity</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Of living with the consequences</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Under pressure, </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Courage, my word, it didn't come, it doesn't matter,</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Courage, it couldn't come at a worse time</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span><span class="u">Courage</span> by </span>
    <span>The Tragically Hip</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey,” Thea chirped. The demon guarding her ignored her. “Hey.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It had been twenty minutes, or maybe two hours since she woke up in this filthy cell. It was hard to judge the passage of time. Thea wasn’t great at chronology when she </span>
  <em>
    <span>wasn’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> still groggy from being KO’ed by an uber-demon and dragged to who-knows-where. “Hey,” she called to the demon again, leaning against the cold bars. “Hey!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was one of the bunny demons that had chased her before. He was playing a game on his tablet and doing a bang-up job trying to ignore her pestering but Thea could see him starting to crack. The corners of his eyes were starting to tighten and he was pressing his lips together.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey,” she smirked now, because she was terrified but also bored and trolling someone seemed to scratch both itches. “Hey.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“WHAT?” the demon snapped, finally whirling around to glare at her. Thea caught a glimpse of the game he was playing. Minesweeper. Wow.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Is this all we are, Josh?” Thea pouted. “You chase me down, literally turn me into a captive audience and then have nothing at all to say? Are you shy?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“My name isn’t Josh,” the demon huffed, returning to his game.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey...hey… Hey!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What’s your name?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We call ourselves Legion.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You call </span>
  <em>
    <span>yourselves</span>
  </em>
  <span> that,” Thea picked up the sulky tone, deciding to see if anything would come of pulling that thread. “What do others call you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not anything you need to be concerned about,” the demon grumbled. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Thea chewed her lip, disappointed. Truthfully she had a mountain of better things to be concerned about at the moment, but not much power to do anything about them. “You call </span>
  <em>
    <span>yourselves</span>
  </em>
  <span> Legion,” she reiterated. “Like...all the other demons who look like you? You’re all Legion? Is it a hivemind thing or are you individuals but you just share a name? How many of you are there? Are you all brothers? Do you argue with each other or are you always in lockstep? How do you decide who guards the human? Do you draw straws? Why do you — </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Would you shut up?!” he growled at her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why am I here?” she growled back. “‘Cause I promise you I’d rather not be.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re a prisoner of Lord Hastur,” the demon grumbled. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Why,</span>
  </em>
  <span> though?” she argued, trying to aim a kick at him between the bars. “Why am I a prisoner?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t like she was excited at the prospect of being murdered, but she had been </span>
  <em>
    <span>expecting</span>
  </em>
  <span> to be murdered, and indeed was of the understanding that the powers that be expected her to be murdered. She wasn’t necessarily unhappy about a change in plans but being imprisoned by demons didn’t seem like a good thing either. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This demon had been particularly difficult to read. He obviously was more than happy to hurt her, a crimson light as livid as she’d expect, but she only felt layers of fear from him. Fear, and a small kernel of smugness. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey,” she kicked at him again. “I’m pretty sure your boss wants me to be turned into goo.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He ignored her, but he was cracking. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey. Hey. Hey. Hey— “</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“My </span>
  <em>
    <span>boss</span>
  </em>
  <span> wants Crowley to suffer,” the demon snapped. Thea thought about that. She had felt the staggering amount of hatred Hastur felt for her godfather, but she hadn’t considered it was strong enough to countermand an order from the Prince of Hell.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Beelzebub wants me gooed, but you’re gonna keep me alive so some prissy Duke can </span>
  <em>
    <span>maybe</span>
  </em>
  <span> get some revenge?” she laughed. “I’m a human, numbnuts. Crowley may have been trying to help me, but I’d be gone in another handful of decades anyway. He’s not going to risk his neck for me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s what I said,” Legion sighed, rolling his eyes. “Didn’t make a lick of sense to me either.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So let me out,” Thea appealed. “No point getting caught up in the drama between a Duke and a Prince. </span>
  <em>
    <span>When elephants fight</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and all that. Better to wash your hands of the whole thing, right?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What’s this to do with fighting elephants?” The demon looked totally confused. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The </span>
  <em>
    <span>ants </span>
  </em>
  <span>die,” Thea answered. “You’re one of the ants.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nothing new,” he sulked. “They call us </span>
  <em>
    <span>The Disposables</span>
  </em>
  <span>, after all. Make us do their grunt work and kill us if we disappoint. Or if they’re bored.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sounds like you might benefit from some collective bargaining — “</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The safest course is to keep my head down and keep you alive until you’re no longer useful,” he grumped.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sounds pretty stupid to me,” Thea shrugged. “First of all, I’m not going to be effective bait. Secondly, even if Hastur was able to use me as a distraction to hurt Crowley, do you really think he’d be hurt for long? He hangs around with a fricken Principality, Josh! I’ve spent the better part of this month hearing lectures about how good they are at healing. Pretty sure you don’t want any part of the heat pissing that angel off could bring down on your head either.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Angels can’t heal damage from a corrupted blade, though,” the demon smirked. Thea eyed him warily because she didn’t know anything about ‘corrupted blades’ but it sounded like bad news.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Crowley’s going to lose that very last corporation of his,” the demon grinned. “And once he’s back down here...well...It’s not going to be a fun time for the snake.”</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>*****</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Aziraphale prayed. It wasn’t something he did often, even before the whole misplaced antichrist and failed Armageddon. He was always quite happy to fly under the radar and be left to his own devices as much as possible. Heaven too, had usually been happy to not be bothered with him at all, unless they needed something.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Or were trying to spite him by experimenting on a helpless human.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When Aziraphale </span>
  <em>
    <span>did</span>
  </em>
  <span> pray, it was to Her. To ask for Her mercy on behalf of another soul, or to thank Her wisdom when something seemed to work itself out quite nicely. The trouble with prayer though was that it was rather like sending off a letter knowing you’d never get an answer back. You just had to hope that it was delivered and read and that the reader would be interested in taking your words to heart.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Aziraphale wasn’t in the mood to wait and see. For the second time in a year he needed to speak with the Almighty directly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So he stormed his own shop, gathering his candles and other accoutrements before tossing the rug aside to reveal his circle — but it wasn’t there. Aziraphale stared at the blank space of floor more than a little flummoxed. Everything else had been put back where it belonged. Why wouldn’t the circle still be there? It was a divine seal! It </span>
  <em>
    <span>had to be there.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He rushed about the shop pulling up every single rug with increasing agitation, moving furniture around when need be. No circle. He tried upstairs in his flat, in case the dear boy had been confused. No circle.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Angel!" Crowley shouted from downstairs. Aziraphale’s heart stopped. </span>
  <em>
    <span>What now?</span>
  </em>
  <span> He rushed down the steps and was immediately swept into a harsh embrace, Crowley snarling wordlessly against his head.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"What is it?" Aziraphale tried to push the demon away to get answers. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Everything tossed about!" The demon whined, seemingly spinning down from a panic. "I thought you'd gone! I thought something—"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Crowley choked on something suspiciously close to a whimper and Aziraphale looked around at the toppled furniture and pulled up rugs. He had created a great mess in his single-minded haste to locate the circle. He could see how Crowley would have thought someone had at least tossed his place (someone </span>
  <em>
    <span>had</span>
  </em>
  <span>!) or that a struggle had occurred. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Oh, no. My dear," Aziraphale winced with guilt looking back at Crowley's ashen face. "I'm quite all right, I promise you."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Did someone come?" he asked, warily eyeing the surroundings as if expecting an attack.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"No, Crowley, I did all this myself blundering around searching for my bloody seal," Aziraphale assured him, smiling sadly as he stroked Crowley's back. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You did…" Crowley looked around again with incomprehension. "I thought…"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I'm sorry, my love," Aziraphale turned the sofa back on its feet and steered the tense demon to it, forcing him to sit with him. He half dragged Crowley onto his lap to cuddle him and the redhead didn't argue, wrapping his skinny arms tightly around the angel. "No need to fret on my account, dear," he murmured into soft crimson hair. "I wasn’t in any danger. I’m all right.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Crowley slowly relaxed his embrace, nuzzling against Aziraphale’s chin. “If you don’t stop using this bloody shop to terrorize me I’m gonna make you bloody sell it,” the demon growled finally.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I am sorry, dearest,” Aziraphale sighed. He assumed the grumpiness meant Crowley was over the worst of his anxiety so he gently removed himself from the embrace. They needed to get back to work. “Did you find any answers on your end?” he asked hopefully.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Some...not much,” Crowley frowned. “Sorry, still confused about why you ravaged your shop.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The circle is gone,” Aziraphale huffed, snapping his fingers and miracling the room back to rights. Honestly, this wasn’t where Crowley needed to be focused.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You expected you’d still have it?” Crowley asked, then winced immediately as if he hadn’t meant it. Aziraphale blinked at him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why wouldn’t I?” he demanded. “It was part of the shop! Everything else was put back when Adam fixed things. Why not my seal?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Cold washed over him as he suddenly realized what Crowley had been saying. The purpose of the seal was to let Aziraphale contact a higher authority rather than waiting on God’s messenger, Gabriel, to deliver him instructions. It was meant as a way for him to quickly ascend to Heaven if he needed to.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Why would Heaven have let him keep those privileges now? He was fortunate to have kept his powers and his corporation and to have been mostly left alone. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Right,” Aziraphale chirped tightly. “I was fired, wasn’t I?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Er…” Crowley obviously didn’t know what to say. The demon likely assumed an angel as clever as Aziraphale would have come to that notion by now. “Is Gabriel refusing your call?” he asked instead.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Truthfully, I hadn’t tried him yet,” Aziraphale grumbled, frustrated with himself for wasting so much time. “I foolishly thought to go over his head this time, given how grave the situation has become. Terribly stupid of me, I know.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“S’not stupid, Angel,” Crowley sighed. The demon mopped his face, his long fingers sliding under his glasses to rub his eyes. “Just sit down for a moment and think with me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Aziraphale chewed his lip, greatly annoyed that Crowley seemed to be handling this crisis so much better than he himself was. He sat beside the demon again, setting his hands in his lap, berating himself more quietly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Crowley gave up trying to rub around his glasses and finally pushed them up onto his head, making his red hair spike up around them like bright plumage. His eyes looked tired, and there was a twitch in his jaw. He looked every bit as troubled as Aziraphale felt. The angel swallowed his bruised pride and took Crowley’s hand. The demon smiled tightly and gave his hand a gentle squeeze. A reminder that they were in this together. Aziraphale wasn’t alone. Aziraphale shifted to better face the demon and gave him his full attention, hopefully signaling that he had concluded his sulk.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Tell me what you found out, please,” Aziraphale prompted.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It cost me a few bottles of expensive spirits but I was able to learn that Hastur’s been keeping himself busy these past months trying to track down a special blade,” Crowley reported. He started picking at the upholstered arm of the sofa. If the knowledge that a Duke of Hell was searching for a “special blade” wasn’t worrisome enough, Crowley’s agitation certainly helped infuse this news with more dread. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What sort of blade?” Aziraphale prompted again, since Crowley seemed to need nudging.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nnneuuugghhh… my contact wasn’t exactly overflowing with specifics, Angel,” Crowley waffled. “Just that it wasn’t the sort of thing one would want to be stabbed with.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I shouldn’t think one would wish to be stabbed with anything, Crowley,” Aziraphale pointed out, starting to feel a bit annoyed. “What are you not telling me?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I think Hastur’s gone a bit rogue on this,” Crowley grumbled. “Wouldn’t need a special knife to do Thea in, right? But say, a dashingly handsome demon with a clever angel on his arm... that might be ‘special blade’ worthy.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Aziraphale frowned. This was a plot to kill Crowley? He honestly hadn’t considered that this situation could have gotten worse.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thea told us that Hastur’s attention was focused on you,” he fretted. “We still assumed it was about Thea but what if he was testing to see how close he could get to you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Crowley crossed his arms and shook his head aggressively, His knees were jumping in that way they did when he was struggling to remain in one place. “Hastur’s not exactly a clever bloke. He’s always been driven by the usual dark ambitions. Taking me out won’t advance his standing in Hell much more than he’s enjoying now.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, I might argue that given the way you humiliated the Authorities downstairs, there might indeed be some status attributed to your removal,” Aziraphale offered, wishing he didn’t need to make this argument. Crowley needed to take care of himself instead of acting like there wasn’t any danger.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I did embarrass them a bit, eh?” Crowley grinned. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Aziraphale smiled fondly despite his annoyance. “We both have thumbed our noses at our former sides, dear. We’ve been fearing their reprisals for months. This shouldn’t be surprising.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah…” Crowley’s grin melted away and the demon scratched his chin. “Still… I seem to remember someone saying we were off limits too. That’s what’s got me confused. If Lord Morningstar has sent up an edict saying I’m to be left alone, then countermanding that wouldn’t look too good.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Perhaps it is personal then?” Aziraphale asked. “You did dump a bucket of holy water on his friend.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Demons don’t have friends,” Crowley rolled his eyes, but something about that prospect did have the weight of truth to it. He frowned again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When was the last time he’d seen Hastur without Ligur or vice versa? They were both dukes and should have been hostile with each other by rights, clamouring for position like every other denizen of Hell. And yet they had always seemed thick as thieves.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well fuck me…” Crowley grumbled. “Shit, I might just have melted the bastard’s only friend.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If that is the case, why has Thea been taken?” Aziraphale fretted. “Or is that a red herring and nothing to do with his plans for you?” He really was having trouble getting a handle on just how much he ought to be panicking at the moment.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Could be he was doing his job for Beelzebub,” Crowley muttered, “but I doubt it. Like I said, Hastur’s not a clever demon. If all he wanted was to kill Thea, then he would have done and that would be that. He took her though, which means she might still be alive.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Bait, then?” Aziraphale sighed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Crowley shuddered. “I expect he’ll contact me soon,” he lamented. “Then we might get more information about this special knife than we’d like to know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>*****</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Look at that,” Hastur crooned, showing off the way the light played across the dark blade of his wonky knife. “Isn’t that lovely?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Thea did her best to keep her face impassive while her insides were twisting with icy fear. The knife wasn’t the least bit lovely in fact. It was a bit bulky around the handle and the bevel looked asymmetrical and jagged. The blade itself was oddly warped and it shone liquid black, with a faint iridescence that reminded her of motor oil on pavement.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Looks gross,” she snapped. “It's perfect for you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I agree,” the duke grinned black teeth. “I’m so excited to play with it.” He leered at her, and Thea took an involuntary step back and wondered for the hundredth time when she should let loose her lightning. She’d been keeping it tamped down with a tight lid this whole time, afraid of playing her last card too early. She still didn’t know exactly where she was, and even if she could blast the living fuck out of these assholes, she didn’t know how to get free of the cell, or how many demons were nearby.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She didn’t know if it would do much of anything against Hastur anyway. He seemed to have gotten past Lynn with no trouble, and Lynn at least seemed to know what she was doing.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lynn. She had tried to help her, and now Thea didn’t even know if the chef was alive. Her poor kids. She never should have run to the bistro. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I suppose you must be wondering what this lovely thing can do,” Hastur mocked, making a slow zig zag in the air with the slick knife.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Josh called it a ‘corrupted blade’,” Thea jabbed, crossing her arms. “So I assume maybe it </span>
  <em>
    <span>corrupts</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Stop calling me Josh,” Josh snapped, glaring at her from behind his tablet.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Perhaps you’d like a demonstration,” Hastur smirked, moving closer to the cell door. Thea shrank back, heart in her throat, and her vision spotted over briefly, causing her to stagger against the disgusting wall.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her muscles trembled worryingly so Thea lowered herself back down to the floor while the demon laughed at her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She wasn’t quite sure how long she had been in here. There was no natural light, and nothing about the environment changed to indicate the passage of time. It had just been her and Josh and his tablet, but he hadn’t been willing to share it with her. She had started to feel hungry at one point. The hunger grew and gnawed and finally subsided into a dull sense of queasiness. She wasn’t totally unfamiliar with hunger, but this level of weakness was troubling. She had refused to ask for food. Whatever the demons brought her wasn’t likely to be edible anyway.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Thea was surprised out of her stupor by a strangled yelp and looked up to see Josh being manhandled by the duke. His tablet fell to the ground as the smaller demon was forced up against the wall. Hastur smiled horribly down at Thea then, his dark eyes full of gleeful malice. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Watch,” he hissed before thrusting the oily blade into Josh’s stomach. Thea cried out in alarm. It wasn’t that she particularly liked Josh, but there was an automatic horrified reaction to this level of violence. The air went out of the darker demon like a punctured balloon and there was an agonizing pause before the impaled demon howled in pain. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Thea gasped in fear at the unearthly sound a second before she too was thrown to the floor with echoes of Josh’s torment. It felt as though every nerve was twisting in on itself, pulling itself out of her spine, ripping out of her skin. She screamed until she had no more air, thrashing in the filth, mindless.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Then Josh was gone, absorbed into the evil blade. Thea retched, heaving nothing but yellow bile from her empty stomach. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Lovely,” Hastur murmured, turning the blade in his hands. “It really is perfect for me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>*****</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Crowley gulped down his seventh cup of coffee and proceeded to jitter around the sitting room while Aziraphale pretended to read. There had been no luck getting hold of Gabriel. The tosser obviously figured Thea being in the hands of Hell was all the more luck to him. Still, Aziraphale continued to reach out to the Archangel every couple of hours in case perhaps the giant pompous wanker was busy or otherwise away from the office.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And Crowley couldn’t fault the angel for trying because at least that was more useful than consuming vast quantities of caffeine and fluttering around the flat like a coked-out hummingbird.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was too much to wrap his brain around. Bad enough to have this sinister plot to charge humans up with occult energy and watch them explode or implode depending on their natural ability, all for the supposed discomfort of a couple of exiled immortals. Bad enough to expect said immortals to take on responsibility for the weird science experiment created by the aforementioned fuckery. All of that was well and truly </span>
  <em>
    <span>bad enough</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But now there’s a bleeding side plot? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>What’s Hastur going to do? Demand Crowley hand himself over in exchange for Thea’s life? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Because, not to be a complete arsehole here, but why the living fuck should he do that? For all the weird wonky powers and beautifully rare talent the girl possessed, she was still a mortal. There was a reason Crowley didn’t get too close to mortals. He’d buried enough of them already. Thea’s life would be done soon enough, right? Why should he leave the angel for the rest of eternity just so one human can get a couple more decades on this stupid planet?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sodding, pustulant FUCKER!” Crowley snarled, hurling his half-full mug at the kitchen wall where it shattered obediently.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Crowley,” Aziraphale called gently, but Crowley didn’t have it in him to go to the angel. He shouldn’t have broken the mug. It didn’t do any good to get worked up and have Aziraphale get worked up too. There was no </span>
  <em>
    <span>plan </span>
  </em>
  <span>in getting hysterical. No way forward. He rubbed his temples. They were starting to throb. He should be making a plan but instead he was obsessively agonizing over an unanswered text message.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Should we discuss arrangements for my remains if all this goes south? </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It felt like years since she had texted him those words. What was it really? A week? Two? Time was slippery when working to prevent an apocalypse. This was on a much smaller scale than what he’d worked against before, but it was still an ending. It would leave him bleeding for a long time. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Should we discuss arrangements for my remains if all this goes south? </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She knew it was likely she wouldn’t make it out of this alive. She’d reached out to Crowley about it because Aziraphale, for all his practicality and pragmatism, was sure to flap himself up into cheerleading mode. He’d be all ‘buck up, Thea. We’ll work it out in the end. No call for being defeatist. Let's have no more talk of that.’</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As opposed to Crowley, who hadn’t said anything at all. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He took out his phone and scrolled through his messages. Yes. There it was.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Should we discuss arrangements for my remains if all this goes south? </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Then a few minutes later: </span>
  <em>
    <span>Nevermind. On second thought it honestly doesn't matter.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“You shit,” he growled at himself. He never did bring it up again. He’d been glad she’d dropped it. He’d skived off the responsibility. He’d already buried enough humans. But he was going to have to bury one more. One way or another.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Or he could make a trade.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Crowley?” Aziraphale called again. The angel was standing beside him now, a warm hand on his shaking shoulder.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Eternity or eighty years?” he cried, looking up at the angel through his tears. A nonsense question cobbled together by an exhausted brain trying to pull reason out of grief. Aziraphale gasped quietly and pulled Crowley into the circle of his arms.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Eternity, my dear,” the angel told him, because he understood Crowley’s dilemma perfectly without having to be told. “We will face this together, as difficult as it may be.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Crowley let himself melt into the safety of his angel’s embrace. He was so tired of being tired.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Got an email this morning,” he muttered into Aziraphale’s shoulder. “We got the cottage.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” Aziraphale replied glumly. “Well… thank you for doing that, dear.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They peeled themselves apart to stare at each other miserably. This cottage now encompassed so much loss. It was honestly pretty rude of it to exist right now. Crowley’s financial guy had sounded so pleased with himself over the acquisition too. It had taken every ounce of restraint the demon had not to fire the man on the spot.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ll try Gabriel again,” Aziraphale said finally, drifting back into the sitting room. Crowley looked down at the shattered mug and sighed, vanishing the mess with a casual wave. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Crowley?” Aziraphale called again, his voice a bit more urgent. A chill crawled up Crowley’s spine and he hurried over to the angel at once. Aziraphale frowned, motioning toward the fox. Ever since Thea’s disappearance, the vermin had been despondent and quiet. Aziraphale had taken over its care, walking it every few hours, and feeding it every morning for the last two days, but otherwise the creature just slept curled in a ball, or sat staring out the window, still as a fluffy statue. It was easy to forget the fox was even around.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Now, however, the little orange animal was alive with energy and scratching viciously at Crowley’s door.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oi!” Crowley snapped at it, kicking it away before it damaged the door. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“She must sense Thea,” Aziraphale gasped, excited.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Or it just wants a piss,” Crowley grumbled, opening the door so the animal could slither out. The fox took off with a flash, but instead of rushing down toward the lift as expected, it turned and leapt at the door to the stairs, bashing the handle with its shoulder in an attempt to open it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Crowley,” Aziraphale fussed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeh, all right,” Crowley growled, opening the other door. “But if this is a false alarm I’m skinning the rutting thing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>*****</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ready?” Hastur smiled at Thea, giving her a little shake. Thea dragged her feet, half leaning against the pale demon as he pulled her onto a dark escalator and gripped her tightly as they began a disconcerting journey upwards toward a watery square of light.  The air cooled the higher they climbed until they breached some kind of barrier and ended up in the lobby of a posh office building.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What…?” she croaked, bewildered.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“London,” Hastur smirked. “Time to fetch me a traitor.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The air was almost bitingly cold outside the building. Thea called out for help from the first group of people she saw, but no one paid her any mind. Hastur cackled and yanked her along. After she failed to get so much as a look from the third person she grasped and screamed at, Thea’s exhausted and starved brain caught on to the fact she and her hideous demon captor were hidden from mortal perception. The well dressed gentleman she’d just tried to cling to stumbled and nearly fell, cursing as he dropped his newspaper. He righted himself and grumbled about cracks in the pavement. Thea mournfully watched him walk away as she was tugged in the other direction.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hastur didn’t seem to mind the walk, but Thea was struggling to keep up. Her ankles wobbled with each step and she stumbled into the demon more than once. Hastur would simply haul her up everytime she hit the ground and continue on his way. If she didn’t walk, she would be dragged, he promised her. There would be no stopping until they got to Crowley.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dragging seemed increasingly likely as they turned onto a familiar street. They were less than a block from the flat now, and Thea was spontaneously struck with a sense of dread so heavy it nearly paralyzed her. She fell to her knees and sluggishly flailed for balance, but Hastur was excited to be so close. When he yanked her upright this time her shoulder twisted and snapped out of joint, wrenching a pained scream from her dry throat.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Too close to give up the ghost now, you abomination,” Hastur cackled, drawing her to her feet while she sobbed.  “Just a little farther.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was difficult to keep going. She felt like she was floating now, no sense of direction even as she was pulled along. She stumbled over and over, nearly blind from tears and pain and hunger. Finally, Hastur thrust his arm around her waist and squeezed her against his reeking body so he could drag her the rest of the way more easily. There was the familiar tone of the electric door chime as they entered the building’s lobby. Thea moaned her heartbreak a second before Hastur cried out in shock and rage. An orange-red snarling blur darted up at the demon, flashing bloodied teeth and furious eyes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Roan,” Thea almost laughed in relief as the fox savaged the demon’s arm, causing him to drop Thea to the cold marble floor. Hastur swore an emphatic litany of outrage before catching the fluffy animal up in his clutches. Thea had barely time to look up before the demon twisted Roan viciously, a loud crack echoing in the stark lobby. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Thea’s connection to Roan, having only just bloomed again, bright and frantic, suddenly vanished. Thea dropped to the floor, the air sucked from her lungs, and the last bit of her power flickered and died with the fox.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thea!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Aziraphale’s voice. She opened her eyes just as Hastur grabbed her by her hood and yanked her upright, holding her against his chest like a shield. She looked around desperately for Roan before spotting the poor thing, crumbled on the tile a few feet behind them. Her vision blurred from angry tears. The duke had just tossed Roan’s body behind him carelessly as he faced off with the angel. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And Crowley.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The last time she had seen Crowley look that angry she had been in very real danger. It was nice to not have it aimed at her this time. Thea might have been more entertained by the firehose of colourful insults the redhead leveled at the duke of Hell, but Roan was gone. Her powers were gone. She could barely stand. Her blood sugar levels were well past critical, and oh yeah, there was that horribly evil blade now poking her in the ribs. Hastur lifted the blade for Crowley and Aziraphale to see before returning it to the base of her ribs. She had a moment of gratitude that the wicked thing was so dull, at least it wasn’t cutting her. It wasn’t much of a blessing. After all, with enough pressure you could stab a person with a spoon.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Speaking of which, those were starting to pile up now, falling from the ceiling. Crowley and Aziraphale unfurled their beautiful wings, folding them over their heads to protect themselves from the flatware. Hastur and Thea were less sheltered, but Thea couldn’t be bothered by the odd spoon falling on her head. It did seem to piss Hastur off though, so that was nice.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Stop this ridiculous bullshit right now,” the duke shouted at them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s me, actually,” Thea admitted. “And I’ve never really gotten a handle on the whole spoon thing. Sorry.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You,” Hastur, snarled, pointing the knife at Crowley. “I’m here for you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And you didn’t even bring flowers?” Crowley snarked back. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“There’s that wit,” Hastur growled menacingly. “There’s that sharp tongue. I’m going to enjoy ripping it out of your insolent throat!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Thea scrabbled for her footing. She knew what would happen next. The demand to exchange her life for Crowley’s. While she wasn’t expecting that to work out well for her, she at least wanted to be standing when it happened. Instead she found herself lifted off the floor and forcefully slammed against the nearby wall hard enough to cause her to bite her tongue. He pulled her back against his chest then, knife against her back once more.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The display of sudden violence had two effects. It caused Thea’s brain to snap back into high alert, flooding her body with adrenaline and chasing her pain into the background. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It also bled all the sarcasm out of the demon Crowley, who was now hissing through gritted teeth. Aziraphale had both arms around the furious demon, holding him back. Hastur smiled, and pulled Thea’s hair, drawing her head back painfully.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Let’s make a trade, angel.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Of course! Of fucking course Hastur would know Crowley wouldn’t sacrifice his life for a mortal. He was banking on an angel sacrificing a demon for one. Hastur had no idea what they actually were to each other. Thea started laughing hysterically.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You stupid dumb fuck!” she cackled, unable to hold back. She was shaking so badly she was at risk of shivering her way out of his grip so Hastur grabbed her arm and yanked her against him more firmly. The blade pressed against her ribs. She could feel the evil of it through the layers of her clothes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“This knife is no joke guys,” she warned them. “Don’t let it anywhere near you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Aziraphale tugged Crowley back a step, and the two of them had a brief whispered conversation. Crowley looked irate. Aziraphale looked lost.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Simple choice angel," Hastur sneered. "Send Crowley over to me and I'll let your human pet go."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Thea chortled again. Aziraphale wasn’t going to </span>
  <em>
    <span>send</span>
  </em>
  <span> Crowley anywhere. Hastur clearly didn't understand the nature of their relationship. There was a little wobble of forward motion from Crowley himself, who seemed conflicted. Thea stopped laughing at that. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>No. He couldn’t possibly be that stupid, could he? It was sweet of him to move like that—  shit, it meant so much to her that he actually cared—  but he couldn’t, he absolutely </span>
  <em>
    <span>Could Not</span>
  </em>
  <span> be that stupid!</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I'm dead either way!" Thea sobbed. She knew that down to her marrow. Hastur was going to enjoy himself killing her in front of Crowley. Her agony would only be the first of his torments. "He's not going to keep his fucking word, Crowley! Don't be an idiot!"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hastur held her tightly, his blade pressed dull against her back, corruption leeching oily and dark into her skin. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Aziraphale held Crowley just as tightly, although she couldn't tell if it was just out of fear or if the smarmy redhead was actually considering… they seemed to be arguing with each other in harsh whispers.  Crowley hissing something about spite or was it </span>
  <em>
    <span>smite? </span>
  </em>
  <span>Yes, that! Aziraphale </span>
  <em>
    <span>do that</span>
  </em>
  <span>!</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Smite him!" she begged. Aziraphale stopped arguing with Crowley and gave her a pained look.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hastur laughed. "Go ahead," he jeered, and Aziraphale actually cringed. "A Principality might well be able to discorporate me. Of course you would undoubtedly destroy this…" the hand clenched around her arm squeezed painfully and Thea grit her teeth, refusing to cry out. She was nearly successful too until the bone cracked under the pressure. She screamed and sobbed, her head swimming with the cold swampy threat of unconsciousness. Adrenaline snapped her focus back once more but she suddenly felt deeply cold.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shock. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Not good.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"It doesn't matter!" Thea screamed at them both, terrified and shivering and furious! "This is so stupid, you two. I'm only human! I'm gone in the blink of an eye to you anyway. I don't matter!"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Of course you matter! What a thing to say!" Aziraphale cried. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Shit! </span>
  </em>
  <span>Was he honestly trying to be sweet and comforting right now, or was he being intentionally obtuse? She wasn’t an idiot. She knew exactly how this had to end. She died here and now or in another seventy years. That difference was the world to </span>
  <em>
    <span>Thea</span>
  </em>
  <span>, but not to </span>
  <em>
    <span>them</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Crowley snarled. It was a vicious, deadly sound. He shook himself free of Aziraphale and took a couple steps closer to them, his hiss sharp and lethal. Thea felt Hastur's dark laugh more than heard it. She'd only made things worse and now Crowley was going to do something brave and completely, horribly stupid.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her gambit had failed. Her fox was dead. Her lightning was gone and her arm was broken. She still had one card left to play.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Crowley! Crowley, listen!" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was hard to tell if he was listening, (his face frozen in a rictus of rage and his eyes hidden behind his glasses) but he stopped his advance, his head slightly cocked so she barreled forward with her plan.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Crowley, you need to remember what I said before, okay?" she sobbed. "None of this is your fault. This isn't your fault! I love you. I love you both!"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She pushed back hard with the last of her strength, thrusting herself on the dull oily length of Hastur's blade. The duke swore at her, snarling and threw her to the pavement in rage. The oily corruption she'd felt earlier flared inside her, igniting against the shocking cold and burning hotter than anything she'd ever felt before. She tried to scream but she had no more voice.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She looked up at Hastur and forced herself to grin because if she was going out then she was going to be a total shit right to the end. His coal black eyes burned in rage and he looked back towards where Crowley still stood. He raised the cruel blade again, dripping in blood now, and rushed forward, gone once Thea blinked. She blinked again and the ceiling above her had gone white and beautiful as the duke was briefly flung back across her vision, twisted and screaming and completely surprised that he'd just been smote by Aziraphale.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Thea laughed then, or tried to. She still couldn't seem to make a sound, but that was all right. It was over and the duke was gone and they'd be okay. It didn't even hurt anymore. Aziraphale must have been healing her. She just felt cold.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Crowley was kneeling beside her now. He was saying something. Probably yelling at her for being a stupid reckless twit. She smiled fondly at him. Everything was going to</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>(Yup. That's honestly how this chapter ends. Come fight me in the comments.)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0019"><h2>19. White Doves</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Hastur's attack has changed everything. Now, in the bloody aftermath of that attack, Crowley and Aziraphale need to find a way forward, without loosing each other.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Posting this a bit ahead of schedule because I am a chump.</p>
<p>Chapter 20 is still in the works though It might be another week or so before it gets posted. There's no cliff hanger this time but... you might want to get some tissues...</p>
<p>CW: FEELINGS, Y'ALL!  ALL OF THEM! MOST OF THEM ARE SAD! ( If you can make it to the part with the ice cream, it gets better.)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>Watching white doves fly</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>As you close your eyes</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>And I don't dare try</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I don't know how to say goodbye</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Keep holding on to let go</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>This is the ending I know</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>It cuts me right to the bone</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>This is the ending I know</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span class="u">
      <span>White Doves</span>
    </span>
    <span> by Cider Sky</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Crowley breathed out with her. He forgot how to breathe in again.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She had been looking up at him when she died. He saw it in her eyes and he knew it the moment she left. One minute she was there with him, almost smiling, and then she stilled, a wrongness settling over her. Mismatched eyes stared without seeing. Her last breath was soundless, anticlimactic, and when it was over, it really was over. </span>
  <span>Crowley breathed out with her. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He forgot how to breathe in again.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The wrongness prevailed, hollowing the girl, making a mockery of her. An intolerable insult. A nasty, cruel trick to play on him. In the place of her wit and warmth a deep fury rose. She left him, abandoned him like everyone he ever cared for had done. Like he feared everyone would do.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“No, you bloody don’t!” he snarled at her. “You get back here, now!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She’d made him care. She’d charmed the snake and he’d wrapped around her, taken her in, made her part of him. She couldn’t just go. He wouldn’t stand for it!</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Aziraphale!” he shouted. Where was the bloody angel? Why wasn’t he doing something? All that immeasurable cosmic power and he was just going to </span>
  <em>
    <span>let </span>
  </em>
  <span>Thea do this?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>No. The angel was there beside him. Crowley just hadn’t noticed, so focused on those lifeless eyes. He should be healing her though. He should be ripping her away from wherever she ran to and dragging her home. Why was he kneeling with his sodding hands clasped on his lap? Why was he weeping?!</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Heal her,” Crowley demanded. “Quickly. Bring her back.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I can’t.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You can’t?!” Crowley shouted, enraged. “Of </span>
  <em>
    <span>course </span>
  </em>
  <span>you bloody can! You’ve done it before. That horrible white dove you smothered!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“A </span>
  <em>
    <span>dove</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Crowley,” Aziraphale cried. “Not a human. It isn’t within my power to —"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Useless!” he spat, and Aziraphale shrank away from him. Crowley regretted it at once and bit his tongue. Aziraphale was distraught, his mouth a stretched open frown, cheeks red and wet. His eyes were blue liquid pools of misery. Crowley reached for him, but the angel shrugged him away.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Not useless,” Crowley amended, his tone flat, his motions jerky. “Not your fault.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Not Aziraphale’s fault. Not Thea’s either. She hadn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>left.</span>
  </em>
  <span> She hadn’t meant to go. She’d been </span>
  <em>
    <span>taken</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He — </span>
  <em>
    <span>They—  </span>
  </em>
  <span>had failed to protect her and she had been stolen away from him — them. Not because of some pitiful mortal outcome, or some callous celestial experimentation. She was taken away to hurt him. Revenge. A life for a life, although Crowley could argue the scales were far from balanced here. Thea, for all her sad humanity, was well worth a thousand Ligurs.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Not Thea’s fault then, and not Aziraphale’s. But someone was responsible. Someone would pay.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“He’s gone,” Aziraphale muttered. “Hastur.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You finally smote him, did you,” Crowley stated. That wasn’t fair. It wasn’t kind. He’d hate himself for it later.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes.” Aziraphale sniffed. “And I have secured the knife as well, should you care to know.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Crowley didn’t care to know. He couldn’t be remotely arsed about the fucking knife.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>*****</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Aziraphale set Thea out on her couch, arranging her arms comfortably before haltingly reciting the words that would preserve her body until arrangements could be made. Crowley had opted to take care of Roan’s remains.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll burn the vermin,” were his exact words, but the sorrow in his voice took the edge off the ugliness. Crowley wouldn’t have let Aziraphale near his Hellfire right now, so he took care of Thea alone, so the demon wouldn’t have to do it.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I truly am so sorry, my dear,” he choked. “In that precious moment I had to choose and — “</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Crowley had rushed forward as the girl fell, and Hastur had readied his next attack. Aziraphale could have healed her (</span>
  <em>
    <span>perhaps</span>
  </em>
  <span>. The effects of that blade were still largely unknown), or he could save Crowley.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Eternity or Eighty Years?</span>
  </em>
  <span> The demon had asked earlier. Aziraphale had promised eternity. He meant it. He chose Crowley and now the stubborn snake was angry with him for it.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“M’not,” the sulky voice spoke from the doorway. Aziraphale half turned to look over his shoulder at the demon.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Not what, my dear?” he asked tiredly.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“M’not mad at you, Angel,” Crowley muttered. “You’re talking to yourself in here. It’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>depressing</span>
  </em>
  <span>." The demon sauntered into the room, managing somehow to look both unaffected and subdued. He joined Aziraphale and looked down at Thea silently. Aziraphale could smell the faint stench of brimstone and singed fur off the demon’s black jacket.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>After a brief moment of silent contemplation Crowley removed his silver scarf and dropped it over the girl's lifeless hands. "Come on upstairs with me, Angel," Crowley suggested, already striding away. "We need a drink.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Aziraphale cast another look at the eerie, silent form on the couch. It was senseless to stay. They needed to rest, recover from their grief and make a plan. A drink seemed just the ticket. He knew Thea would agree.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Still, he felt another illogical pang of guilt as he left her alone.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>*****</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her first thought, (when she remembered to have thoughts) was that this dying thing was more complicated than it ought to be. You’d think after 6,000 years and who-knows how many human souls that the powers that be would have this business down to a science.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She remembered a moment of terror when she first contemplated if she’d end up Above or Below. She had been fairly certain it would be at least one or the other. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Instead, she stood in a </span>
  <em>
    <span>wrong</span>
  </em>
  <span> version of her studio, listening to a distant and discordant beeping. It droned on and on and slowly she began to understand that something had gone very wrong. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hello?” she called out. “Az? Crowley?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>No answer. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Roan?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Still nothing. Thea turned a slow circle, taking in the muted tones of her flat, the way the sunlight came in too sharp and seemed to reflect off surfaces that didn’t exist. She opened the door only to find a cement wall behind it. A similar barrier met her with every door she opened. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She couldn’t leave.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The beeping tone droned on and even </span>
  <em>
    <span>that </span>
  </em>
  <span>was starting to become clearer.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>We can not complete your call as dialed...</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Fantastic.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>So, her next thought was how books, movies and television had </span>
  <em>
    <span>lied </span>
  </em>
  <span>to her, left her utterly unprepared for all this. There should be a bright welcoming light or a horrible ring of fire. Anna should have come to welcome her home. At the very VERY least a black robed dude with a scythe should be menacing her.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>DON’T BRING ME INTO THIS.</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Thea yelped, the voice unlike anything she had ever heard before and completely indescribable. She turned toward Death and he looked pretty much as she expected. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Except for the carton of ice cream. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Shit,” she breathed, unable to reconcile what she was seeing. “Fuck...wow.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The ice cream though. What was that about? Rocky Road. Did that mean something?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>I LIKE THE MARSHMALLOWS.</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Cool,” Thea squeaked. “Marshmallows are cool.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Death stared at her. She thought he did anyway. He stood there, stock still, facing her with his eye holes. It </span>
  <em>
    <span>felt </span>
  </em>
  <span>like staring. She swallowed and forced herself to be brave. “Right, so… I’m glad you’re here.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>THAT’S A FIRST.</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t… Sorry. I’m new to this,” she tittered nervously. “What’s supposed to happen now? Do you lead me out of here?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>NO.</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Thea waited for more information, but it didn’t seem forthcoming. Death took the lid off his carton and dug a bony finger into the ice cream.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Um… Sorry again. Super new...” she shrugged apologetically. “Aren’t you … Death?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>YES.</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Ok… so… like isn’t this kinda your job?” she winced, really wishing she wasn’t in the position to be asking this entity these questions. Or any questions at all.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>I AM DEATH. MY “JOB” IS TO REAP THE MORTALS FROM THIS COIL WHEN THEIR DAYS ARE ENDED.</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Thea shrugged again, frowning expectantly. Death sounded a little snippy to be honest, and it wasn’t like she was having a great day either.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay? So… reap away I guess?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>I DO NOT CONCERN MYSELF WITH CELESTIALS.</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, for fucks sake, come on!” Thea snapped. “Seriously? </span>
  <em>
    <span>YOU </span>
  </em>
  <span>are pulling this shit now? I’m not a fucking celestial. I’m a human who has been totally screwed by celestials, so—”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>DID I FUCKING STUTTER?</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Thea shut up because that was spooky and she didn’t like it.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>YOU ARE LUCKY THIS IS A SLOW DAY. ALL I WANTED WAS TO ENJOY A NICE TREAT. THEY EVEN FORGOT MY SPOON.</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Thea blinked, snapped her fingers, and summoned a spoon. She handed it over to the reaper, then stared at her fingers in alarm.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“The fuck…?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>THANK YOU. </b>
  <span> There was a brief pause while Thea tried not to watch a skeleton eat ice cream and failed.</span>
  <b> SORRY FOR SNAPPING.</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Nah, I get it,” Thea waved her hand dismissively. “It always sucks when they forget the utensils. I’m juuuuuuuust a smidge confused, is all.” She cleared her throat. “If I’m not a human—”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>YOU’RE NOT.</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Then… I’m...  a…”  </span>
  <em>
    <span>Not slytherin Not slytherin Not slytherin.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>ANGEL. OBVIOUSLY.</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Obviously,” Thea pinched the bridge of her nose, feeling both relief at not being damned, but also a massive amount of confusion and frustration at how impossible all of this was getting. “Okay, please don’t get upset with me. I’m trying not to question you here, but… How can I be an angel if I have all these demon abilities?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>IF AN ORANGUTAN LEARNS TO TAP DANCE AND SPEAK FRENCH DOES IT CEASE TO BE AN ORANGUTAN?</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It wouldn’t… but it would be one hell of a special ape.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“But wouldn’t I be half of each? An Angon? Demel?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>THAT ISN’T A THING.</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, Crowley mentioned I might be breaking new ground here and I just wondered—” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>DEMONS ARE FALLEN ANGELS. THERE IS NO ‘HALF OF EACH’. THAT IS VERY SIMPLE LOGIC.</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Is it though?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>YES. AND YOU ARE NOT MY DEPARTMENT.</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Thea thought about this for a while. Death continued to eat his ice cream.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She knew that she was descended from Nephilim. Aziraphale had spoken about them with some embarrassment, and that had led Thea to making the mistake of asking the Principality some personal questions and him not speaking to her for three hours.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She was descended from angels, way </span>
  <em>
    <span>way </span>
  </em>
  <span>back. That was why she had been able to hold as much power as she had without turning into a blob. It was why she’d been selected to become goo in the first place.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She’s been made aware of how she’d been changing, but Aziraphale seemed so focused on the demonic aspects that she’d really started to worry about being damned. Nobody ever </span>
  <em>
    <span>once </span>
  </em>
  <span>said anything about her being an </span>
  <em>
    <span>angel</span>
  </em>
  <span>. No one said anything about her </span>
  <em>
    <span>not being mortal</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Had she always been an angel then? No. Aziraphale or Gabriel would have known and the Hellfire would have hurt muuuuch more than it did. So had she just been slowly turning into an angel this whole time while pretending to be a demon and nobody noticed? That was very sneaky of her.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Or maybe it was even more recent than that. Maybe it had something to do with how she died?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Regardless, Death seemed pretty sure she wasn’t mortal which meant she couldn’t be the usual type of </span>
  <em>
    <span>dead </span>
  </em>
  <span>either so that was... something.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She was also pretty sure Death could hear what she was thinking.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“So… I’m an angel…  with some demon powers?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Death nodded and managed to look impatient which was impressive for a being with no face.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What do I do now?” she asked finally.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>LET ME ENJOY MY ICE CREAM, FOR A START.</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Can I go back? To living, I mean?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>IF YOU LIKE.</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Thea tried to consider her options, but was still staggering under the magnitude of what she’d learned. She knew what she chose from now on mattered, but she didn’t know enough to know how to choose. She didn’t even know the right questions to ask. It was too much. It felt like it was going to be </span>
  <em>
    <span>too much</span>
  </em>
  <span> for a while.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You know, I was angry with you for a really long time,” she muttered, instantly annoyed at herself for picking a fight when she should be begging for help. Why was she like this?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Death didn’t react, although why would he? What did her opinion matter?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It hurt so much when she died. It felt cruel. I shouldn't have blamed you though,” she sighed. “You didn’t take her away from me. You came for her though? So she wasn’t alone?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>I DID. AND SHE WAS NOT AFRAID. THE GOOD ONES NEVER ARE.</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Thea choked back a happy sob. “Thank you for that.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Death smiled. He did. She wasn’t sure how she knew that, but he definitely smiled. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>THANK YOU FOR THE SPOON.</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>*****</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Time felt a bit off. Crowley kept wondering if he was messing with it, eyeing the clock to make sure he had his powers under control. Sure enough, time was ticking along as it was supposed to. It was just them. They were stuck in a moment and it was draining them. Eventually they decided they had had enough of being upright so they collapsed into a heap on Crowley's bed. It still smelled faintly of the sweet almond oil Aziraphale had massaged into his freckled skin a couple nights before but it wasn't unpleasant so neither of them bothered to snap the sheets clean. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Aziraphale stared blankly at the ceiling. Crowley twisted in beside him, arms wrapped around his angel's soft chest. He tucked his nose under Aziraphale's jaw near his ear. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The angel had barely looked at him since they came upstairs. Crowley hated getting the silent treatment. Typically, Crowley would be getting an earful of angelic bickering if Aziraphale were just fed up with him, but the silence, the refusal to meet his eyes… Aziraphale was angry with him and </span>
  <em>
    <span>thinking about it. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Real anger was bad. Mulling the anger over was worse. The voices slithered forward from the shadowy part of his brain to agree with his assessment.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>He’s doing the math right now, while you sssip your Scotch…</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Shut up!</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>He’s seeing you for what you are. He’sss thinking you’re toooo much bad luck...</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They drank in silence before retiring to the bedroom. There was a rigidity to the way Aziraphale fell into bed, supine, hands clasped over his midriff.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Jussst like how he'd laid out Thea's body downstairsss...</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Crowley shuddered and tried to snuggle closer to the angel's warmth. He didn't enjoy that association much, his angel lying like a corpse.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> <em><span>Don't dwell on that image then. Note the differences. He's alive. You're both alive.</span></em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Note the crossed anklessss, weary stare and ever deepening frrrrown...</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Angel?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm a Principality of Earth, Crowley," Aziraphale answered, barely a whisper. "Do you understand what that means?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Probably not," Crowley frowned. He figured he knew the basics, but the chill in the angel's voice heavily indicated this wasn't going to be a conversation about rank and responsibilities.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I was created to protect Her creations on Earth. As She intended them to be. I feel an immense love for humanity, Crowley."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Crowley kept very still and very quiet, suddenly quite glad he had held his tongue about ditching Earth and its scourge of mortality and running off to the stars. He'd figured it for a lost cause before, but it was still what he wanted more than anything at the moment. Just the angel and an endless expanse of peace and quiet.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Sssaccharine. Ssstupid. He’s going to tell you now. Here it comes. He’sss going to leave… </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Do you understand what would happen if a celestial being made up of this enormous love for humanity had the ability to simply resurrect the humans they adored so?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Crowley curled his fingers into the velvet waistcoat as if that could prevent Aziraphale from drifting away from him. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Might be a bit tempting to play God," he admitted.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"A bit," Aziraphale agreed, frost coating each sharp syllable.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Crowley reached for a witticism and found nothing, no matter how he scraped the barrel. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Ssstupid...</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I didn't mean it," Crowley muttered. "It was just… I hoped—"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Sssaccharine...</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"You very nearly tasted Hastur's blade you know," Aziraphale growled. "Had I not smote him when I did he would have plunged that vile thing in your back and I would have lost you both."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Crowley pressed his face against the angel's neck, ashamed. He had run into danger blindly. It had been stupid.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"As it was you were still too close for my comfort. Not that I enjoy smiting </span>
  <em>
    <span>at all</span>
  </em>
  <span>, by the way, but the thought that I may have caught you in my wrath was horrible."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yes, definitely very stupid. And unlike him too. Crowley should have been scampering for cover instead of hissing taunts and insults. Especially when Thea fell! Hastur lost his human shield. He'd be forced to make his move and Crowley, colossal idiot that he was, all but presented his back for the stabbing.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>StupidStupidStupid demon...</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"And who knows? Perhaps I </span>
  <em>
    <span>might</span>
  </em>
  <span> have been able to save her if I hadn't been forced to save </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span>," Aziraphale snapped. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Yesss! Your fault Your fault YOUR FAULT...</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Crowley jerked away at once, his body reacting to the crippling sting faster than his head. He sat upright, bewildered, a horrible mounting ache in his chest. </span>
  <em>
    <span>No! No! No no no no NO!</span>
  </em>
  <span> Not his fault! He didn't want any of this!</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But he </span>
  <em>
    <span>did</span>
  </em>
  <span> bring the girl to Mayfair when he knew it wasn't safe. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He </span>
  <em>
    <span>did </span>
  </em>
  <span>attack her and frighten her and damage both hers and Aziraphale's trust in him, robbing her of lessons he </span>
  <em>
    <span>should </span>
  </em>
  <span>have taught her about demons like Hastur.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He </span>
  <em>
    <span>had </span>
  </em>
  <span>let her get too close to Aziraphale, to </span>
  <em>
    <span>him</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He </span>
  <em>
    <span>had </span>
  </em>
  <span>let her be taken right from under his nose.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He </span>
  <em>
    <span>had </span>
  </em>
  <span>failed to see Hastur’s true motivations until it was too late. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He </span>
  <em>
    <span>had </span>
  </em>
  <span>foolishly stumbled into the trap even knowing it was a bloody trap and he </span>
  <em>
    <span>had </span>
  </em>
  <span>forced Aziraphale to save him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And </span>
  <em>
    <span>worse still</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he had forced </span>
  <em>
    <span>Thea </span>
  </em>
  <span>to save him. She had thrown herself back on the knife, making the choice </span>
  <em>
    <span>for </span>
  </em>
  <span>him because he wasn’t smart enough, quick enough— </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Your fault...</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It </span>
  <em>
    <span>was </span>
  </em>
  <span>his fault.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah,” he muttered, already shrinking down into his snake form. “Okay.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“No,” Aziraphale sighed, rubbing his tired eyelids. “Now</span>
  <em>
    <span> I</span>
  </em>
  <span> am the one saying things they don’t mean.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Sss S’true though,” Crowley admitted, sliding under the bed. “S’true.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It isn’t. You’re not — Crowley, where the blazes did you go?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He didn’t notice? Crowley glanced at the bed frame above him and considered staying silent and hidden in the dark.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Hide! Protect yourself! He can’t hurt you if he can’t find you!</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>But you should hurt. Evil Vile Thing. You need to hhhurt...</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It felt good to be alone with his shame. The lash of it against his mangled heart was breathtakingly appealing. He could wallow in it for centuries.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Down hhhhere,” he groaned instead.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, Crowley,” Aziraphale sounded exasperated. “Come back up here, please.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And it presented an option for him to be difficult, to lick his wounds in the safety of this small space. Instead he huffed a mournful breath and slid back out before returning to his human form. He refused to return to the bed though. He turned to the window, looking down at the poor Bentley. The bumper was crumbled and still half in the fence. There was a bubbled scar across the bonnet from Aziraphale’s smite. The former would be easier to fix than the latter. He might have to search for a replacement part.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Will you not look at me now?” Aziraphale sighed.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You haven’t looked at me since we came upstairs,” Crowley countered. “Besides, this is where those bloody muppets came in. Not a bad plan to keep watch.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I see,” Aziraphale grumbled. The angel pressed against Crowley’s back a moment later, wrapping his arms around the demon’s waist. Crowley’s traitorous heart leapt for bloody joy at being embraced so, but he knew well enough now to keep himself in check.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Don’t be saccharine. Don’t be stupid.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“We're grieving. We should take care not to take our pain out on each other,” Aziraphale whispered against Crowley’s neck.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“MmHmm,” Crowley nodded, unconvinced. “Sensible. Let’s just move on then.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’d like that,” Aziraphale murmured.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Mmn,” Crowley grunted, thrusting his fingers into his pockets to prevent his hands from doing something stupid.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It didn’t bother him so much that Aziraphale was angry. Crowley was </span>
  <em>
    <span>furious</span>
  </em>
  <span>, after all. He’d be offended if Aziraphale weren’t angry too. But Crowley was prone to lashing out and saying stupid things he didn’t mean, and Aziraphale wasn’t. And Crowley’s nastiness came out while Thea’s body was still warm, her blood still slowly spreading across the marble towards him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Aziraphale had time to </span>
  <em>
    <span>think</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Crowley had lashed out, come to his senses, apologized and curled up at the angel’s side like a discarded mink in the time it had taken the angel to opine his blame.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p><span>Aziraphale had </span><em><span>thought </span></em><span>about it then. He’d rolled it around in his clever mind</span> <span>and, yes, he was angry and grieving, but no less clever so…</span></p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>So</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he had concluded that it </span>
  <em>
    <span>was </span>
  </em>
  <span>Crowley’s fault, and was now deciding if he could be forgiven.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>No...</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He couldn’t. He shouldn’t be either. He was unforgivable in perpetuity. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Unfffforgivable...</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Nothing he could do about that now. He had to keep moving. Keep busy. Try to fix what could still be fixed.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Right, excuse me a moment,” he grumbled, gently removing himself from Aziraphale’s arms so he could retrieve his mobile. Aziraphale took a tentative step back.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What are you doing?” the angel asked, confused.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Making arrangements for the remains,” Crowley informed him, numbly. He called up the email about the cottage and, deciding he needed a better screen, strode out of the bedroom toward the study. Aziraphale hurried behind him. Crowley could practically hear him wringing his hands.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Crowley, I’m not sure—"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Let me take care of it, Angel,” Crowley purred, slipping into temptation mode as he flipped open the laptop. It was like putting on a uniform. It made him feel like he was in control, in his element. Doing things for the angel. This was as much part of his makeup now as sulfur and scales. He pressed his lips together and brought up the cottage address again, searching for the nearest major airport.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Making travel arrangements was something both of them were experts at, although traveling with human cremains added a potential hiccup. There would be questions. Although he didn’t doubt his ability to make up the proper forms and yadda yadda yadda, he just didn’t want to deal with it. He sighed tiredly and sat back on his throne. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He closed the tab on airports again and instead focused on learning more about the cottage.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>There were pictures of the acreage included with the sale information. Crowley tabbed through them, rubbing his chin and studiously ignoring Aziraphale when the angel loudly cleared his throat. It was a pretty area, lake access, and large deciduous forest over a couple large hills. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Look at this," Crowley motioned for Aziraphale to join him. The angel gave an exasperated sigh but apparently gave in to curiosity, stalking hastily around the desk to see the screen.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"What do you think?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm sure it is a lovely cottage," Aziraphale grumbled. He folded his arms over his chest and didn't look remotely impressed.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm not talking about the bloody </span>
  <em>
    <span>cottage</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Aziraphale," Crowley spat, knowing full well the blonde was being intentionally obtuse. "I'm proposing we take her here. Lay her to rest!"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Well, I'm not quite ready to, you heartless snake!" Aziraphale growled. "Why are you rushing this? Why can't we just sit for a bit!"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Sit all you want," Crowley shouted, springing out of his throne. "Just thought I'd get your opinion to be kind but I don't need your input. I'll do it alone then."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"You absolutely will </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span>," Aziraphale threatened, and it </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> a </span>
  <em>
    <span>threat</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Everything about his voice, his expression, the very set of his shoulders spoke as an authority that expected to be obeyed or else.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But Crowley was Fallen. Authority could get fucked. He had a responsibility, the last and only opportunity to do right by Thea. He wouldn't cock it up this time.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"This," he pointed at the laptop, seething with rage. "This is </span>
  <em>
    <span>my</span>
  </em>
  <span> responsibility. You can help or you can fuck off."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Excuse me?" Aziraphale scoffed. "In what way could this possibility be more your task than mine?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Because she bloody asked me!" Crowley snarled, calling up the texts and thrusting the phone into Aziraphale's clammy hands.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Aziraphale read the exchange, his eyes widening, and Crowley remembered finally that </span>
  <em>
    <span>technically</span>
  </em>
  <span> she hadn't asked him to do anything at all, but that was only because he'd never answered her. He'd let the conversation drop.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Did you speak after this?" Aziraphale asked gently. Crowley eyed him warily, straightened his glasses and cleared his throat. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>You Shit… Hhhhheartless...</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Gnnn...Neh. uncomfortable topic," he looked away. "I let it go, like the </span>
  <em>
    <span>heartless snake</span>
  </em>
  <span>, I am. Tha's why I gotta fix it now, so… just </span>
  <em>
    <span>let </span>
  </em>
  <span>me."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"You never replied," Aziraphale whispered, mournfully looking at the screen. Crowley hissed in pain and viciously snatched the mobile back from the angel's hands.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I'll let you handle this," Aziraphale told him. "</span>
  <em>
    <span>And</span>
  </em>
  <span> I'll help you. I just ask you give me a</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>little time to sort myself out first."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Crowley heard the pleading in his voice and nodded. Waiting was the done thing anyway, wasn’t it? A period of adjustment before bodies were buried, or ashes were scattered? </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, Angel,” he responded gruffly. “I’ll give you that. Gotta rest up anyway. Not gonna deal with airports and the like this time and skipping across the Pacific can leave me pretty knackered on a good day…”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you,” Aziraphale sounded relieved. “Will you come back to bed then?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Crowley’s chest constricted uncomfortably at the suggestion. The notion hurt, so he shook his head. “Neh… gonna tend to the plants, I think,” he muttered. “Been a rough few daysss and I forgot to water them.” He tossed Aziraphale a tight smile then headed out of the room.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you going to... leave?” Aziraphale croaked and Crowley’s stride faltered just before the corridor. He half turned back, his eyebrow lifted in surprise. He frowned at the question. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Crowley </span>
  </em>
  <span>wasn’t ever the one likely to leave but…</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Is…” His throat was suddenly too dry. He should have another drink. “Do you </span>
  <em>
    <span>want </span>
  </em>
  <span>me to leave? I </span>
  <em>
    <span>can</span>
  </em>
  <span>, once this is settled, if you —”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“No!” Aziraphale whipped around to face him and he looked nearly devastated at the thought. Crowley should have been comforted by that, but instead he felt himself cringe. “Of course I don’t want you to leave! I need you!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Right,” Crowley shrugged. “S’all good then. I’m not going anywhere.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Aziraphale looked skeptical, perhaps for good reason. Crowley </span>
  <em>
    <span>did</span>
  </em>
  <span> very much want to hide for a while, give himself that mental lashing he wanted. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>would </span>
  </em>
  <span>have done in the past, but things were different now.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>If the angel told him to stay, he would stay. When the angel told him to go, he would go.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“S’not like you couldn’t find me if I did a runner, Angel,” he reminded Aziraphale. “Got that globe of yours now, yeah?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>That seemed to appease the angel who visibly relaxed and smiled in relief. Crowley tried not to feel too insulted. Why should his word be worth anything now? It was in his nature to disappoint. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, Crowley,” Aziraphale murmured, and Crowley lifted his brow again in confusion. The angel was staring at him with something like pity.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeechh, Wot?” he sneered, disgusted by the shift in tone. “Wot’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>that </span>
  </em>
  <span>for?” he wagged his finger in a general up and down motion to indicate Aziraphale’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>whole thing</span>
  </em>
  <span> at the moment.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You just look so very sad, my dear,” Aziraphale whispered, stepping towards him, reaching for him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Plants,” Crowley yelped, backing away gracelessly. “Gotta water ‘em.” He spun on his heel and stalked off to the plant room just shy of a jog.  Gravity reversed itself before he made it all the way into the room.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yyeeaahh!” he yowled, pinwheeling and grabbing at air before his back hit the ceiling. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Not in front of the plantsss</span>
  </em>
  <span> he whispered into Aziraphale’s mind.  He had no idea what the angel was about to do that required him being restrained. It hadn’t been that long ago that Aziraphale had held Crowley in ropes of air and fucked him so well he’d called out to God. Crowley was quite certain this wasn’t going to be </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Another scolding more likely, and he wouldn’t abide that in front of the plants. He glared at Aziraphale as the angel entered the room. The angel glared back. Definitely a scolding.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I’m ssserious, Angel. Not here. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Is that dark fantasy of yours back, Crowley?” Aziraphale asked, because the angel was apparently bloody psychic now. His tone was almost casual, but his grey eyes looked daggers of ice up at him. Crowley scowled because yeah, the fantasy never actually went away. Other desires had risen up around it instead until finally he hadn’t thought about it much at all.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And now those other things were blowing about untethered in the back of his mind like dandelion fluff in a tempest. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And it wasn’t even about sex. It wasn’t about sex </span>
  <em>
    <span>at all.</span>
  </em>
  <span> And it wasn’t about love or healing or atonement. It was </span>
  <em>
    <span>the lashing </span>
  </em>
  <span>he wanted. The punishment, cold and simple.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>No mystery there. He had his feet firmly planted where angels feared to tread.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re free to grieve your way, Aziraphale, and I’ll grieve mine,” he hissed.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Agreed,” Aziraphale stated curtly. “Me first though. Your plants can wait.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A snap and Crowley was lying supine on his bed again, with Aziraphale beside him. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What the absolute unholy FUCK?” Crowley snapped, but the angel ignored his outrage and attacked, wrapping strong arms around the demon’s torso and pulling him closer until he was pressed chest to chest against a plush waistcoat. The angel’s pocket watch dug into his hip bone and Crowley’s glasses were askew but his arms were firmly held in a way that prevented him from fixing either of those things.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Shush,” Aziraphale commanded, pressing his warm face against Crowley’s throat. “You’ll get what you want, Crowley, but first I need you. Please.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And that did it. The sodding </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘please’</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Every single time.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Crowley bit his lip to keep from grumbling as he willed his muscles to relax. His body was more than happy to comply, in fact, all but oozing into Aziraphale’s embrace as if this was where he belonged. As if this was home.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Fair enough. It </span>
  <em>
    <span>had </span>
  </em>
  <span>been home only yesterday.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Crowley tested his arm movement. It seemed the angel was willing to allow it so Crowley fixed his glasses, shifted the damn watch, and then pulled Aziraphale to him more comfortably. He rested his head on the pillow and stared out over fluffy blonde curls, gently stroking the angel’s shuddering back. Crowley bit his lip, and closed his eyes, wishing Aziraphale had been right about him. If only he truly </span>
  <em>
    <span>didn’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>have a heart. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He did though, and it was horribly fragile.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Aziraphale cried and Crowley held him and nuzzled him and kissed his hair. The demon’s chest constricted tighter with every wracking sob until Crowley had squeezed every molecule of air from his own lungs and just lay there content to never breathe again. On and on the angel cried, drenching Crowley’s neck with tears. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Your Fault...</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Crowley almost wished he could join in, cry the pain out until he passed out from dehydration. He'd cried before. He knew he was capable. He tried to expand his ribs in hopes his deflated lungs would fill. Maybe the breath would prompt a sob. Unfortunately he was rewarded with neither air nor tears. So he gave in and waited out the storm, willing himself numb.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Thank you," Aziraphale coughed and sniffed, finally pulling back from Crowley's chest. "Oh, I'm sorry. I've made a bit of a mess of you."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"S'fine," Crowley sighed, snapping himself clean and dry once more. "Did all that help at all?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm not terribly certain, to be honest," Aziraphale lamented. "I feel a bit headachy actually."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Crowley summoned a bottle of water and handed it over. Aziraphale accepted it and pushed himself upright in order to drink. Crowley watched him quietly. Aziraphale was a mess. His face was pale, eyes red rimmed and tired.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"No more humans from now on," Crowley blurted before he could stop himself. Aziraphale gave him a questioning look so he rolled his eyes and continued. "S'too much to keep doing this. Let's just swear off 'em from now on."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"It may be a bit late for that," Aziraphale frowned.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Don't think it is," Crowley grumbled. "We've just got a chance to have a clean slate."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Except that there is still Adam and his friends. Anathema and her beau. Our own Warlock and the Dowlings…"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Gggnnnnnoooooo!" Crowley moaned, rolling over to bury his face in the pillows. "Fuck. Do what you want. I'm pulling back."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Crowley," Aziraphale sighed as though Crowley was being unreasonable. He wasn't! </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p><span>"You can cuddle them all you bloody want with your enormous divine love for humanity, </span><em><span>Oh</span></em> <em><span>Principality</span></em><span>," Crowley hissed. "But this </span><em><span>heartless snake</span></em><span> is done with mortal bullshit."</span></p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"You're </span>
  <em>
    <span>still</span>
  </em>
  <span> smarting over that?" Aziraphale asked, flatly. "And am I to be </span>
  <em>
    <span>'Principality'</span>
  </em>
  <span> from now on until you've concluded your sulk?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Crowley glared at him, furious. "Are you </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> the sodding Principality?! Did you not rip into me earlier regarding your loving duties and responsibilities as a bloody fucking Principality?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"There is a great deal more to me than my position as Principality and you —"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>PRINCIPALITY AZIRAPHALE.</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Crowley widened his eyes in surprise at the unnerving voice. Aziraphale's eyes looked much the same and they shared a brief look of dismay before turning to address Death.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Er. Present," Aziraphale stammered.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>YOU HAVE SIXTY SECONDS TO HEAL THEA SUTTON.</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Aziraphale blinked owlishly, and Crowley was giving himself a crick in his neck from rapidly looking between the two of them.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Um… there must be some mistake," Aziraphale frowned. "I'm afraid she has…" the angel trailed off seemingly realizing telling </span>
  <em>
    <span>Death himself</span>
  </em>
  <span> that someone had passed was problematic.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>FORTY SECONDS.</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Angel," Crowley hissed. "Fucking check!"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Aziraphale cut off his own squeak with a snap and vanished. Crowley raised his hand to snap to follow but— </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>DEMON CROWLEY.</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Shit! Wot. Yes?" Crowley grumbled. He hated talking to the faceless bloke. As much as he fancied himself a big spooky fan, Death still gave him the creeps. "Look. No hard feelings 'bout the whole thwarted Armageddon, yeah?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>INDEED. IT IS MY HOPE THE PRINCIPALITIES WILL TRIUMPH IN PREVENTING THE NEXT WAR.</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"For someone's sake, </span>
  <em>
    <span>another </span>
  </em>
  <span>bloody war?”  Crowley spat. It definitely snagged in his scruffy mind that Death had also referred to Principalit</span>
  <em>
    <span>ies</span>
  </em>
  <span>, (as in plural), but priorities remained what they were so he continued. “Issit us against the humans? I've got money on it."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>HUMANITY WILL PERISH WHEN THEY RISE. THE ONES WHO CAME BEFORE.</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Before?” There was a blankness in Death's voice, and a vastness to it. Something older and stranger than Crowley, than what he'd been before he was himself. He struggled to get himself around it. Older than Eden. Older than Hell. Older than demons or even angels. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>That</span>
  </em>
  <span> kind of </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘Before’</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” Crowley gaped. Death barely tipped him a nod. Crowley’s brain hurt. It was extremely difficult to contemplate that level of deep-time, even for one of the Fallen.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>BEST OF LUCK. </b>
  <span>Death flourished with his bony fingers, pantomiming tipping a hat, before vanishing into an ever-receding pocket of mirthless laughter. Crowley continued to stare at the space formerly occupied by the mysterious entity.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Ffff…” he started. “Wh…”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Nope. Nevermind.</span>
  </em>
  <span> He’d drink, fuck, or snort whatever it took to scour all </span>
  <em>
    <span>that </span>
  </em>
  <span>from his brain later but it was time to get himself downstairs.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He snapped, hoping Aziraphale had managed to do whatever it was he was supposed to do in forty seconds without him. He materialized in the downstairs flat to receive yet another shocking vision of utter batshittery.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Aziraphale was kneeling on the floor before the sofa, his snowy wings agleam with holy light. It stung Crowley’s eyes even through his glasses, and bled all the colour from the room into monochrome. Shielding his eyes as much as possible with his hands, Crowley was able to see that the angel was struggling to contain Thea’s intense thrashing. At first glance it seemed that she was fighting Aziraphale. On closer inspection, Thea’s body appeared to be convulsing under his ministrations.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What in Hell’s name are you doing?!” Crowley shouted at him, wincing at the brightness.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Shut up and help me!” Aziraphale shouted back.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’d be glad to, if I weren’t on the verge of being </span>
  <em>
    <span>bloody incinerated by your fucking Grace!</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It isn’t mine!” Aziraphale bellowed, but the angel was clearly confused because he gave a sharp snap of his white wings and the light dimmed down to a glittering pearlescence </span>
  <em>
    <span>(magnificent bastard). </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What do you need?” Crowley hurried forward to assist, falling to his knees beside Aziraphale. He wasn’t much of a healer but he could lend energy or try to hold her still or— </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Help me contain her until this runs its course” Aziraphale urged him, teeth clenched against the effort it took to hold the girl down. Crowley wanted to question why an entity as supernaturally strong as Aziraphale required assistance in restraining this slip of a girl, but there were so many other questions at this point that he couldn’t be arsed anymore. He brought his hands down on her slight shoulders and bore down with all his weight against her convulsions, amazed at the force behind her seizure.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I hate to ask, but did you heal her?” Crowley grunted, ducking his head under a flailing arm. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course I healed her!” Aziraphale snapped, grabbing Thea’s wrist again. “That’s what started all this!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Right. </span>
  <em>
    <span>This</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Crowley snorted. “Forgive my demonic ignorance, but what exactly is </span>
  <em>
    <span>this? </span>
  </em>
  <span>Did Death throw her back like an underweight fish? What does </span>
  <em>
    <span>this </span>
  </em>
  <span>mean?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“She’s—” Aziraphale began before they both gasped in surprise and collapsed forward as Thea’s convulsions abruptly ended. Aziraphale staggered away, breathing heavily. Crowley stayed on his knees and stared. The dead girl’s skin was warm to the touch, and a fast, strong pulse beat against his fingers where he tucked them against the side of her neck. Her hair seemed darker, more coffee than chocolate, and it fell about her shoulders in tight curls instead of loose waves. He mentally shuffled that into the </span>
  <em>
    <span>Ask-Later</span>
  </em>
  <span>-pile because Thea wasn’t breathing.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Breathe,” he urged, trying to take her hand. It was closed in a fist, tightly clamped around his scarf so he placed his hand over hers instead.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Breathe,” he begged. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Why wasn’t she…? He checked her pulse again. It was slowing down. He started to panic. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>THEA!</span>
  </em>
  <span>” he shouted at her.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Thea screamed, bolting awake. Crowley fell backwards on his arse in surprise and Aziraphale surged forward to wrap the panicked girl in his arms. She sucked in a large ragged breath and Crowley breathed with her, relief flooding his veins like adrenaline.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re back!” Aziraphale was laughing and sobbing all at once. Crowley shuffled himself semi-upright and watched the two of them, completely in awe.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you all right? Are you in pain? What happened to you? Are you all right?” Aziraphale was beside himself. The last time Crowley had seen the angel in this much of a flap he was force fed soup soon after. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And later tucked safe in those fluffy white wings and gently lulled to sleep, feeling truly safe for the first time. Crowley scowled and gave himself a shake. He could mourn the loss of that safety later. He’d just witnessed </span>
  <em>
    <span>a resurrection</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He looked up at the girl as she finally blinked open her eyes.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“A...Az…?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m here my dear,” he assured her. “I’m here.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Crowley oozed himself closer toward the couch, keeping himself low, but unable to resist getting a better look.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Crow...ley?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Something hot and feral shivered inside him when she softly called his name. Something fiercely protective, angry, hurt… </span>
  <em>
    <span>desperate.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“He’s here too, dear. He’s all right,” Aziraphale assured her, finally glancing over his shoulder at Crowley and then frowning in wide-eyed alarm. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Crowley flowed forward quickly and snatched Thea out of the angel’s arms with a mute snarl. A second later he was across the room, hunkered down in the corner with Thea cradled on his lap, black wings folded over their heads possessively.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She didn’t make a sound. No cry of surprise or fear or anger. She rested her head against his chest. He stared at her, overcome with nameless emotions.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Forgive me,” he begged her. “Forgive me forgive me forgive me.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Thea opened her eyes, (two deep orange eyes!) and smiled up at him. She lifted her hand and gently booped his nose. Crowley choked on a laugh that felt like a balm.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Excuse me,” Aziraphale huffed, gently prying Crowley’s wings apart at the elbow joint to peek down at them. “What the blazes was that about?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Dunno,” Crowley shrugged, flushing slightly. It had been an entirely new instinct. He felt embarrassed about it now so he shrugged his wings away. “Sssorry. Bad day.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Aziraphale gave him a speculative look before offering a hand down to Thea. “Can you stand?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I think so,” she murmured, taking the angel’s hand and slowly staggering to her feet. The second she left him he felt that same surge of protective fury but this time he shoved it back down deep and forced a heavy cement lid on it. He unjangled his bones until he was upright again himself, affecting his most nonchalant pose, fingers in his pockets, half leaning against the wall. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Would either of you care to tell a lowly demon what the everloving fuck has just occurred?” he asked with bleedingly insincere sweetness. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Thea healed herself,” Aziraphale gushed proudly. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I…” Thea winced.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“How could she heal </span>
  <em>
    <span>herself</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” Crowley snapped. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>You</span>
  </em>
  <span> had to heal her!” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Because —”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“And </span>
  <em>
    <span>why </span>
  </em>
  <span>did you have to heal her at all if she was dead?” Crowley rubbed his temples, trying to stem the tide of questions leaking out of his </span>
  <em>
    <span>Ask-Later</span>
  </em>
  <span> pile.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s what—”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Obviously, she wasn’t really dead, Crowley,” Aziraphale nagged, crossing his arms.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Actually I think—” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Obviously</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Crowley mocked. “How stupid of me!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Guys, C’mon—” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“As you so </span>
  <em>
    <span>astutely</span>
  </em>
  <span> pointed out earlier, there was a great deal of holy energy building in her corporation, Crowley,” Aziraphale glowered at him. “She brought herself back. I merely healed her body for her—”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“STOP IT!” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Thea’s voice rang loudly with an almost melodic echo and the space around her exploded with feathers causing Crowley and Aziraphale to both spring back in dismay. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Thea stared them down with angry autumn-coloured eyes and dark swinging curls as her heather grey wings unfurled behind her. Wings! Feathered wings! Grey ones! </span>
  <em>
    <span>Grey </span>
  </em>
  <span>wings! THEA’S WINGS!  Crowley stared at her in stupefied shock. Aziraphale actually fell over.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She growled at them, lifting a pink lip to reveal sharp pointed fangs. “Do I have your attention?” she scolded them. “Because I’ve got some news.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0020"><h2>20. After The Storm</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Thea has come back from the dead and there is no way Gabriel and Beelzebub didn’t notice. Aziraphale and Crowley, still reeling from their own trauma, need to scrape together the time they need to sort themselves out and discover what exactly has happened to Thea.<br/>However, time has just run out.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Ahhhhh! The final chapter. Holy crap!</p><p>Thank you to everyone who has been reading and commenting. This was the first fic I started and my mind is blown that I actually managed to finish this beast! And hopefully I’ve set up tease to have people interested in the sequel while still giving this fic a satisfactory ending. I did my best.</p><p>My eternal gratitude to PinkPenguinParade for the beta work and the handholding. My love as well to my besties who have been encouraging me over virtual tea-time.</p><p>Please enjoy.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em> And after the storm </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I run and run as the rains come </em>
</p><p>
  <em> And I look up, I look up </em>
</p><p>
  <em> On my knees and out of luck </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I look up </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Night has always pushed up day </em>
</p><p>
  <em> You must know life to see decay </em>
</p><p>
  <em> But I won't rot, I won't rot </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Not this mind and not this heart </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I won't rot </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> <span class="u"> After The Storm </span> by Mumford &amp; Sons </em>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>Aziraphale was bone tired. He had experienced various types of exhaustion many times in his existence and generally he had managed to rally himself with a jolly good pep talk or a stern self-scolding. It wasn’t really until the last few months that he found himself honestly struggling with it. He wanted a rest. </p><p> </p><p>God help him, he wanted to sleep!</p><p> </p><p>It most certainly occurred to him that this wasn’t a constructive thing to be considering immediately after learning that Thea was — and he’d need a good stiff drink too! — an angel! </p><p> </p><p>He was ecstatic to see her alive and well, truly. It was miraculous, in the way humans mean it when they say something is miraculous. It also, as it happened, was completely devoid of any logical sense. Humans didn’t become angels. They just didn’t do that. Ever.</p><p> </p><p>“Are either of you going to say something?” Thea asked after the silence stretched itself too thin for comfort.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m sorry, dear,” Aziraphale stammered, heading back into the sitting area so he could drop into the soft chair. “It's quite a lot to take in.”</p><p> </p><p>He winced out of habit, expecting lewd mockery from the demon over his poor choice of words. He glanced at the sullen black shape lurking by the window after not getting so much as a snort. Crowley was still leaning against the wall, slowly looking between Thea and himself. His face was impassive, and if he didn’t know any better, Aziraphale would swear his glasses were even darker than usual.</p><p> </p><p>“Okay, well…” Thea chuckled wryly. “Maybe one of you could give me a hand putting these dumb things away?” She poked at one of her wings with a worried frown. Aziraphale smiled fondly. How in Heaven did this happen? </p><p> </p><p>“Imagine a jacket,” Crowley quietly instructed her, unfolding himself from the wall. Aziraphale arched a brow as he watched the demon slink toward the new angel. A jacket? Really?</p><p> </p><p>“You’re wearing it, but it moves through you, not on you,” Crowley continued. “Take a breath and draw the jacket closed.”</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale chuckled. Generally the use of wings was largely intuited by angels so it had never occurred to Aziraphale to have a way to explain unfurling them into the ether. It was simply something one did. A jacket though. Preposterous.</p><p> </p><p>Thea closed her eyes and took a breath. As she exhaled her wings flexed, folded and tucked away perfectly. Aziraphale tried not to gape.</p><p> </p><p>“Well done,” Crowley smiled. Thea opened her eyes again and grinned.</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale blinked. Well, nevermind. A jacket it is, then. He laughed at himself and tried once again not to underestimate either Thea or Crowley.</p><p> </p><p>The demon looked at him, brows pinched, undoubtedly confused by Aziraphale’s wry laugh so the angel gave him a warm smile. Crowley’s features didn’t change.</p><p> </p><p>“Do you need to eat?” the demon demanded. Now it was Aziraphale’s turn to be confused but Crowley continued to press, his tone characteristically sharp. “You look bloody knackered, Aziraphale. Do you need to eat something?”</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale huffed in annoyance over the fuss.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll order you something,” Crowley grumbled, pulling out his mobile and scrolling through it again, no doubt searching one of his magical applications. His other hand rested lightly on Thea’s shoulder, fingers gently curled as if simultaneously steadying her and restraining her. </p><p> </p><p>“I have muffins…” Thea offered helpfully.</p><p> </p><p>“Really, dear,” Aziraphale chuckled. “I assure you I’m not in danger of dropping dead.”  </p><p> </p><p>Oh bother. Another poor choice of words. Crowley snarled at him this time, then stormed into the kitchen, all but dragging the girl along with him.</p><p> </p><p>“Crowley, would you please stop being so dramatic,” Aziraphale chided. “I'm fine and there are much more important matters requiring our attention.”</p><p> </p><p>“Shut it!” Crowley spat back at him. “You’ve smote the fuck out of a duke of Hell today, and you’ve been eating poorly the whole time Thea was missing. You smote that disposable too and healed Lynn, and then healed Thea just now. You look like you are about to bloody drop!”</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale blinked. Well...yes… he supposed when it was all laid out like that it might be a bit more exhausted than he’d let on. </p><p> </p><p>“We can’t let Thea juice you up because we’ve no idea what that might do to you now that she has flipping wings,” Crowley continued, opening cupboard doors and pulling out supplies. “No offense, Thea.”</p><p> </p><p>“None taken,” Thea quipped, wide eyed at Crowley’s take-charge attitude. “I definitely don’t want to mess around with that right now.”</p><p> </p><p>“There is no way the sudden creation of a new celestial has escaped notice. Gabriel or Beezlebub or both will be making a move soon, and you are the best chance we have of defending ourselves. So fucking just rest and eat something while you can.”</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale stared at Crowley and nodded mutely. He felt his cheeks flush a bit at being scolded so, and was more than a little put out that Crowley had made a number of excellent points. Blast him.</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale didn’t like the idea of having to sit on his rump and eat muffins while there was so much upset, but he did feel depleted and there was just so much confusion to sort though... Perhaps a nice cup of tea and some stillness was in order, just to recharge and think up a strategy for parsing through all this new chaos.</p><p> </p><p>And Crowley seemed to be managing the situation quite effectively, if sharply. Aziraphale was soon handed a plate of lemon cranberry muffins and a cup of tea with a grumbled assurance that better food was on its way. Aziraphale thanked the demon and was rewarded with not so much as a grunt. </p><p> </p><p>The glasses were definitely darker, and the demon wearing them was definitely colder. Crowley was drawing himself in, pulling away from Aziraphale all over again. So bloody sensitive! Aziraphale pursed his lips and chewed his muffin resentfully. He supposed he should be grateful the cowardly snake hadn’t fled when Aziraphale left to heal Thea on Death’s order. The demon would have no reason to really believe Thea was going to come back and it was his best chance to be a bleeding idiot and sod off.</p><p> </p><p>But he didn’t. </p><p> </p><p>However, Aziraphale had noticed he didn’t immediately follow either. He could have used Crowley’s help to restrain the thrashing girl, but he had taken several minutes before he deigned to show up. Perhaps it was a petty thing to focus on — after all, Crowley had shown up eventually—  but seeing Thea like that, having to handle it alone, however temporarily, it stayed with him. He had thought her dead and gone and then suddenly she was dying all over again, spasming horribly in his arms and Crowley wasn’t there. There was no doubt in the angel’s mind that Crowely had stayed behind, considering making that escape. He probably wanted to and decided there wouldn’t be any point now because of the globe. </p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale narrowed his eyes and snorted. He’d wager the demon regretted being so reckless <em> now </em>.</p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale glared at him and gave him a derisive snort. Crowley frowned and turned away.  The angel was eating and resting. More food was on its way. He tried to remind himself that Aziraphale was a bit nasty when he was hungry. Maybe that was all that was? The voices in his brain hissed that it was evidence of the angel’s contempt but Crowley cleared his throat and forced himself to move on. That was the first job done, so he turned his attention over to Thea. The girl was nearly vibrating.</p><p> </p><p>“You all right?” he asked quietly, leading her back into the studio so Aziraphale could rest. </p><p> </p><p>“Um… No?” she laughed. “This is ridiculous! How could this happen?!”</p><p> </p><p>“Wish I could tell you,” Crowley shrugged. “Just gonna hafta take it one step at a time.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> I won’t leave your side. I’ll protect you better this time. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Will you though? Can you? Won’t you fail again and again until thisss angel hates you like the other one doesss...? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“But, this changes things, Thea,” he assured her, coughing around the lump the voices made in his throat. “I don’t know exactly how or what, but you being an... angel matters. And I definitely don’t think you’re at risk of turning to goo anymore.”</p><p> </p><p>“Then why do I feel like I’ve done<em> all of the drugs!” </em> she cried, shivering. Crowley smiled a little at that. He could only vaguely remember what it had felt like when he became a demon. The flick of some cosmic switch that infused his being with demonic energy like he had grasped onto a live wire. He could only imagine this must have been the ethereal version of that cascade of energy thrumming through her newly angelic form.</p><p> </p><p>“It will even out,” he assured her. “Eventually.”</p><p> </p><p>They shared an awkward look and then Thea looked down at her hands where she still clutched his scarf. She smiled at it and handed it back.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m assuming you only gave me this because I was dead,” she winked.</p><p> </p><p>“Too right,” he teased, snatching it back. </p><p> </p><p>“Are you and Az going to be okay?” she asked, abruptly turning serious.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Were we ever okay? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Sss...S’nothing you need to worry 'bout,” Crowley grumbled. “You should sit down too. I’ll get you a drink and—”</p><p> </p><p>“I just want to lie down,” Thea sighed. “Do you think I can go to bed?”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley frowned, not expecting that after all the jittering. He glanced over toward Aziraphale, who shrugged. </p><p> </p><p>“Erm… I suppose?” Crowley didn’t want his focus split between rooms. He’d have to move the angel in there too so he could guard them both. Not impossible but not ideal. Food would be arriving soon too and — </p><p> </p><p>“Go lie down, dear,” Aziraphale told her. “I need to speak with Crowley anyway. We will be right here, so just shout if you need us.”</p><p> </p><p>Thea smiled at them both and walked away to the bedroom. Crowley only managed to stand still until she vanished from his sight and then he hissed to himself and started after her. Aziraphale stood, drawing his eye and he hissed at the angel too.</p><p> </p><p>“Sit!” he ordered.</p><p> </p><p>“Crowley, I’m feeling a bit better for the muffins, but you need—“</p><p> </p><p>“I can’t <em> see </em>her,” Crowley hissed. “They’re gonna steal her again right under my nose.”</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale frowned at that. “<em> Our </em> nose, you mean. And yes, I suppose that is a possibility, you’re right. We ought to keep her in our sight.”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley had already started down the hall to peer in the bedroom. Being around Aziraphale made the cruel voices louder. He made himself focus on fixing what could be fixed. Thea hadn’t managed to make it into bed yet. She stood in the centre of the room looking at the little toy mouse at the foot of the bed, tears running down her pale cheeks. Right. The vermin. He'd forgotten about the bloody fox.</p><p> </p><p>“Uh… She was a good… creature,” Crowley flinched at his own words. What a botched job of comfort. Thea was looking at him now and he shrugged apologetically. “The ver— <em> Roan </em>. She was brave. I’m… sorry for what happened.” </p><p> </p><p>Thea nodded and smiled sadly, sitting on the bed and hugging herself as if she were cold. Crowley was struck by the feeling that he should be doing something but he had no idea what.</p><p> </p><p>“Did you say Az healed Lynn?” Thea asked after a moment. “I heard her scream before…”</p><p> </p><p>“She’s all right now,” Crowley nodded. “Aziraphale put the witch back to rights. The bistro, on the other hand…”</p><p> </p><p>“I shouldn’t have gone there.” Thea buried her face in her hands. “Stupid of me! It didn’t even matter in the end but I nearly got her killed and—”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley glanced back down the hallway towards Aziraphale, wondering if the angel wouldn’t be much better at comforting the girl. Well...obviously. That was part of an angel’s whole thing, the comforting. But Aziraphale was meant to be resting and seemed to be doing just that. Crowley could scent the fresh cut fruit, butter pastries, and thick sliced bacon he’d ordered being opened. Aziraphale must have fetched it up from the lobby.</p><p> </p><p>“Wish I knew what to say,” he muttered, knowing he was letting Thea down again. “I’m shit at doing the right thing in emergencies. Always doing the wrong thing, me. so… if you wanna talk about regrets, I’m your demon.”</p><p> </p><p>“It sucks!” Thea croaked.</p><p> </p><p>“The regret, or the being rubbish?” Crowley asked with an awkward grin.</p><p> </p><p>“Both.”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley dropped onto the bed beside her and sighed. “Too right it does,” he agreed quietly. “But you’re an angel so… maybe there’s hope for <em> you </em>.”</p><p> </p><p>They sat in miserable silence for a while, both brooding on their failures and what they’d lost. </p><p> </p><p>"If you’re not going to lie down after all, perhaps you’d like to help me eat some of this food?” Aziraphale suggested from the doorway with a small smile. “Apparently Crowley ordered enough food for an army.”</p><p> </p><p>“Didn’t know what you wanted,” Crowley grumbled. Thea gently leaned against his arm for a moment, the barest hint of an affectionate embrace before she stood and joined Aziraphale, letting the angel envelop her in a tight, warm hug. Crowley watched them both out of the corner of his eye and his throat tightened at the ease with which they shared affection, that Aziraphale was able to give Thea what she needed. An angel. Shit. Thea was an <em> angel </em>! They were both angels and he was just...</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> He won’t need you anymore… </em>
</p><p> </p><p>The realization of Thea’s immortality and what that meant for his own superfluousness struck Crowley in the chest so forcefully it hurt, leaving him gripping at his waistcoat, a strangled “urk!” eking through his clenched teeth.</p><p> </p><p>“Crowley?”</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale was kneeling before him, a hand on his knee. Thea watched him from the doorway. Both angels’ eyes were wide in concern and somehow it only made the panic worse.</p><p> </p><p>“What is it?” Aziraphale asked him. “Are you in pain?”</p><p> </p><p>“M’fine!” Crowley squeaked. “Go eat something already!”</p><p> </p><p>Thea gave Crowley an appraising look then nodded and left toward the kitchen. She <em> knew.  </em> She bloody sensed exactly what was wrong and she was humoring him. <em> Aziraphale </em> was less obedient and didn’t move. Crowley growled at him.</p><p> </p><p>“Why didn’t you come with me when Death told me to heal Thea?” Aziraphale demanded, out of the fucking blue. Confusion joined the swirl of terror and self-loathing clouding Crowley’s system overwhelming him and making him skitter backwards on the bed, seeking distance.</p><p> </p><p>“He bloody <em> told </em> me to wait!” Crowley shouted at the blasted angel. “Had to give me his weird fucking omen, didn’t he? And why not? Clearly if there’s any sod in the universe to be trusted with starting End Times it is the demon Crow—”</p><p> </p><p>“What omen?” Aziraphale’s eyes were wide with curiosity now and anger joined the list of other emotions flooding the demon.</p><p> </p><p>“'There’s another fuckin’ war brewing and he thinks we should stop it,” he hissed. There. It was Aziraphale’s problem now and he was sure they were all better for it. “That’s what he wanted to tell me. So, you know… terribly sorry for not following you sooner.”</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale chewed his lip, then shook his head. “I understand. I thought perhaps you’d… Well anyway. We will have to worry about this prophecy later,” he suggested, looking flustered. Crowley had figured as much, which is why he hadn’t wanted to bring it up!</p><p> </p><p>“Are you having a panic attack?” Aziraphale asked quietly.</p><p> </p><p>“No.”</p><p> </p><p>“Then what’s going on, Crowley?” the angel demanded. “You’re acting terribly strange.”</p><p> </p><p>“Am I?” Crowley snarled.</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale sighed, looking annoyed. “Are you still cross with me over what I said before? I thought we had agreed neither of us meant the ugly things we had said. We were supposed to be moving on.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, M’workin’ on it,” Crowey growled. “Movin’ on will be easier for <em> you </em>now, I expect. Now that Thea’s an angel like you.”</p><p> </p><p>“What’s that supposed to mean?” Aziraphale looked a cross between offended and confused.</p><p> </p><p>“Nothing, shit. Nevermind. Go bloody eat something before —”</p><p> </p><p>“Crowley, I did!” Aziraphale shouted, grabbing Crowley’s shoulders. The demon’s heart stuttered at the contact and he hissed, cheeks warming as he stared wild-eyed at the angel. They were far too close. They weren’t supposed to be this close. “I’ve eaten some of the lovely food you got for me. I feel much better, dear. You, on the other hand, do not seem to be faring too well. You are just as tired as I am and you look to be on the verge of flight.”</p><p> </p><p>“S’nothing,” Crowley muttered. “Gotta move on, right? And neither of us can see Thea right now. She’s probably already been abducted by mole rats or buried under a mountain of spoons…”</p><p> </p><p>“She’s in the kitchen,” Aziraphale assured him gently. “As you’ve said. She’s an angel now. I can sense her easily. You should be able to as well if you’d stop being so dashed brainless for a moment.”</p><p> </p><p>“Whottya want from me, Angel?” Crowley growled. “I’m trying my best here, all right? You need to take care of yourself, just lemme do <em> something to help. </em>"</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale pulled Crowley against his chest, squeezing him tightly and for a moment the demon forgot to struggle. “You’ve <em> been </em>helping, Crowley! You’ve done plenty. Now it is my turn to take care of you.”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley pushed him away again, hissing furiously. "There's no bloody time for games, Aziraphale," he growled. "I told you I'll be fine. S'not like I'd sleep even if I had time for a kip. And we sure as Heaven aren't doing anything else that might recharge me so just sod off already!"</p><p> </p><p>"You should take a moment to grieve, Crowley," Aziraphale followed him onto the bed, sitting in front of him and trying to take his hand. </p><p> </p><p>"Grieve what?!" He snapped, yanking his hand away. "She's back. She's fine. She's a flipping angel for Chrissakes! That must be a relief eh? You were so bloody sure she was a demon like me!"</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Filthy uselesss vile… </em>
</p><p> </p><p>"Regardless," Aziraphale persisted, "you lost her for a while and you never processed that at all."</p><p> </p><p>"I told you. You grieve your way and I'll grieve mine."</p><p> </p><p>It occurred to Crowley then that Aziraphale had agreed to those terms just hours ago. He'd <em> agreed </em> to give Crowley what he wanted.</p><p> </p><p>"You remember that, Aziraphale?" he hissed quietly. "Remember how you no longer found the idea of hurting me so dissstasteful? Did you mean it when you agreed to help me 'process my grief'?"</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale's face fell and Crowley felt that confusing blend of sorrow and pride one feels when they are proven right when they hoped they were wrong.</p><p> </p><p>"RIght. Well," Crowley's voice had gone as brittle as the rest of him. "There's that. I'll sort myself out when there’s time. You don't need to sully your fingers with it, I promise. You can keep on being the nice one."</p><p> </p><p>"This doesn't sway me from my point, Crowley," Aziraphale argued, grabbing the demon's arm before he could slither off the bed. "You lost someone you love. I won't <em> beat </em>you, no. But I won't abandon you either."</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Love? LOVE?! Demonsss can't love…  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Crowley frowned, feeling his cheeks flush as the voice’s hissed denials finally slapped against something that wouldn't break. Because Crowley <em> did </em> love. He loved Aziraphale more than anything in existence. He loved him. He'd <em> said it out loud and everything </em>. No matter how base and evil he was, he couldn't ever take that back. His stupid, utterly inconvenient love was what kept him here despite the immense discomfort. He had to fix as much of what he’d broken as possible if he had any hope of staying in Aziraphale’s orbit.</p><p> </p><p>"I know," he sighed. "It was my fault, and I know you’ll prolly never truly forgive me for it, but I have to try to make it right, Angel. Please just let me stay."</p><p> </p><p>"Good Lord, Crowley," Aziraphale breathed, eyes wide. "There is so much wrong with what you just said I don't know where to begin!" </p><p> </p><p>Crowley rolled his eyes then yelped when Aziraphale abruptly shoved him backwards on the bed and pinned him by his shoulders.</p><p> </p><p>"I see now that you are not in a place to be reasonable," Aziraphale growled, but his eyes looked almost playful. "Your demonic thoughts have turned on you. Well, I have just the thing to take your mind off it."</p><p> </p><p>Crowley squeaked, casting a worried glance toward the bedroom door. Aziraphale lowered his head to whisper in his ear. "I will see you writhing beneath me, gasping for breath as you beg for mercy."</p><p> </p><p>"Angel!" Crowley pawed at him frantically but Aziraphale didn't budge. "This is Thea's bed! She's just in the kitchen and—"</p><p> </p><p>"Oh, I was thinking I could ask her to join in. She might enjoy this!"</p><p> </p><p>"Angel! Ew! She's practically our daughter!"</p><p> </p><p>"Ha! I knew it, you love her!" Aziraphale crowed. Crowley scoffed up at him, annoyed. The angel’s gloating smirk softened into something horribly soft and loving as he looked down at him and Crowley’s scowl slipped. Soft lips brushed his own in a gentle kiss before Aziraphale lightly tapped his nose with a chiding finger. "And as it happens, I wasn't going to have sex with you in her bed. How much of an exhibitionist do you think I am?"</p><p> </p><p>"I think you're a complete arsehole!” Crowley grumbled, but he did feel somewhat mollified. “What were you talking about with all the writhing under you talk, then?"</p><p> </p><p>"Oh, I'm so glad you asked!" Aziraphale smiled. "Now, where were we?" Crowley squeaked again as the angel slid his hands under his black waistcoat, splaying his warm fingers over the demon's belly before pausing over his ribs. Crowley eyes widened with dawning comprehension.</p><p> </p><p>"No," he gasped.</p><p> </p><p>"Oh yes, I'm afraid so," Aziraphale chuckled, tickling Crowley's ribs. Crowley bit his lip, arching off the mattress and whipping his spine, trying desperately to wiggle away from the torturous fingers. Strained laughter forced itself through his gritted teeth and he could hear Aziraphale giggling and it was all too ridiculous and overstimulating and Crowley quickly dissolved into helpless laughter, wheezing pleas for mercy exactly as Aziraphale had predicted.</p><p> </p><p>The infernal tickling stopped and Crowley waited, his whole body tensed up from the torment as he gasped quick panicked breaths under an entirely too smug-looking angel.</p><p> </p><p>“Now listen very closely, please,” Aziraphale murmured, “None of what’s happened to poor Thea is your fault. I have nothing to forgive you for, as for letting you stay… I’m not particularly of a mind to <em> ever let you leave. </em>” Crowley felt the angel’s warm palm against his cheek and his breath caught in his throat and his eyes pricked with wetness.</p><p> </p><p><em> Fucking tears? </em> He’d tried desperately to cry earlier and nothing! He really <em> was </em>broken.</p><p> </p><p>“Do you understand, Crowley?” Aziraphale whispered, his lips so very close to Crowley’s.</p><p> </p><p>“Gnnn,” Crowley groaned, still trying to control his stupid leaking eyes and furious at himself.</p><p> </p><p>“No?” Aziraphale sighed. “Perhaps another jolt will do the trick then,” he threatened, moving his hands back to Crowley’s ribs.</p><p> </p><p>“I get it! I get it! Fucking Mercy! I relent!” Crowley screeched, trying to trap Aziraphale’s troublesome fingers in his own. </p><p> </p><p>“Lovely,” Aziraphale grinned, placing a chaste kiss against Crowley’s lips. “Now come out and at least have some tea with us while we eat the excessive repast you ordered.” </p><p> </p><p>Crowley grumbled some casual obscenities under his breath as he tried to push himself upright. Aziraphale was still straddling his hips though.</p><p> </p><p>“You gonna move so I can geFFmmf! —” Aziraphale took Crowley by the back of the skull and pulled him into a kiss that wasn’t nearly so chaste as the first one. Apparently deciding that tea and rashers of bacon could wait, the angel shoved Crowley back down on the bed and sucked a bruise into his throat as the demon gasped, fighting not to moan. </p><p> </p><p>“Angel!” Crowley whispered urgently. “We can’t!”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, I know,” Aziraphale sighed against his neck before gently nipping the tip of Crowley’s ear. “But once we get things sorted with our former so-called superiors, you and I are going to remodel that kitchen of yours,” he growled and Crowley thought he might discorporate from a sudden overdose of shock and arousal. “Then the shower… then the bedroom…”</p><p> </p><p>“Yep, understood!” Crowley groaned. “Whole place needs work. Note taken.”</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale chuckled, kissed his cheek and finally slid off Crowley, straightening his tie and waistcoat and smirking as if he’d won something. Crowley eyed him suspiciously and slid off the bed from the other side, just in case the angel tried something funny. Aziraphale grinned at him and led him back to the kitchen where Thea had made coffee and seemed content to pretend that she hadn’t heard them arguing then giggling like idiots in her bedroom. </p><p> </p><p>Crowley sheepishly took his coffee and returned to his usual spot on her sofa while the other two sorted out the rest of the food. There definitely was an excessive amount of food, but much of it would keep and in short order they would either be in mourning again or celebrating so Crowley decided to spin it as planning ahead. He sipped his coffee and his hands hardly trembled at all. </p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>Thea picked at the bacon, tasting the salt in her mouth, savoring the simple pleasure of eating something after… <em> oh! </em> It was like that first bowl of chicken soup or ramen once your appetite comes back after being sick! What a mundane feeling to have <em> post-resurrection! </em> </p><p> </p><p>Her conversation with Death kept replaying in her head. It seemed so black and white to the Entity. He declared her an angel and that was that. Not his department. Tossed her back to Earth. Now that she was back here, all those shades of grey came flooding in and uncertainty came with them. Because she wasn’t an angel <em> really. </em> </p><p> </p><p>“I’m not an angel, really. Right?” she muttered, feeling herself blush. Aziraphale looked up from his own plate and gave her a curious look and Thea blushed even more. “I mean… I know what Death said and there’s that bit that happened with the wings but... if I’m not human anymore… what does that <em> mean </em>?” she trailed off, not wanting to talk about this anymore. Aziraphale pursed his lips and chewed his food thoughtfully while Thea stewed. </p><p> </p><p>“If I’m to be perfectly honest,” Aziraphale sighed. “I have absolutely no idea. To my knowledge nothing like this has happened before.” </p><p> </p><p>“Oh.”</p><p> </p><p>“What did Death tell you?” Aziraphale asked.</p><p> </p><p>“Only that I’m not mortal and therefore not his problem. I guess Angel is the non-mortal default.” Thea rolled her eyes, remembering how unhelpful the spectre had been.</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale smiled at her and sighed. “All I can tell you for certain is that you <em> are </em> an angel <em> now </em>. You have an ethereal aura that makes this point quite clear at least.”</p><p> </p><p>“Is there a special aura for tap-dancing french orangutans?” Thea smiled, still feeling a little high from the etherealness. Aziraphale’s pale eyebrows drew together in confusion and the Principality seemed to decide her question was rhetorical and returned to his meal.</p><p> </p><p>“Death called me that,” she explained, causing Az to make the face again. “I asked if I was part demon, and it was part of his snippy way of saying there was no such thing.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh?” Aziraphale looked very interested in that and Thea noticed the angel flick his eyes towards Crowley with a telling smile. “Not possible?”</p><p> </p><p>“Do <em> I </em> know something <em> you </em>don’t?” Thea grinned, the opportunity to be a little shit overriding her existential dilemma. Aziraphale gave her an extremely wry smile in return and refused to answer, which was as good as a confirmation. “No such thing because demons are fallen angels, so it’s all just different flavours of angel.”</p><p> </p><p>“Unless you Fell,” Aziraphale added, frowning. Thea’s gleeful <em>know-it-allness</em> melted into pure dread.</p><p> </p><p>“Will I?” she whispered. “Holy shit, Az. I never thought I could —”</p><p> </p><p>“Heaven wouldn’t cast you down,” Aziraphale rushed on to say. “I was speculating and... Forgive me. They wouldn’t let you Fall. No. Heaven doesn’t do that anymore. It only strengthens the other side to make more demons. They’d just destroy you like they tried to do to me.”</p><p> </p><p>“Great. There’s that at least,” Thea muttered, pushing her plate away, appetite officially destroyed. The worst part was that, as horrible as dying in a tower of hellfire would be, it was still preferable to lifetimes of agony or whatever waited for her in Hell. She’d barely seen any of Hell when Josh kidnapped her, but just that bit had been plenty terrible enough. Whatever it was that turned angels into demons was bound to be fucking terrible and it was probably a bad conversation to be having right now. The only one of them who could actually speak to all this was behind her, sipping coffee and being way too quiet for Thea’s liking. </p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale seemed more himself after the food, but Crowley was still off. She could feel his grief and guilt and rage swirling around him like a tempest, and while it seemed like some of the dread and fear had lessened after whatever the angel said to him, the rest of the emotions were still drowning the demon and Thea had no idea how to help.</p><p> </p><p>Thea wished she didn’t feel like a constant burden. She wished she could carry her own weight. She also wished she didn’t have to face a mirror at some point today and see <em> what else </em>has changed. Her new dark curls hung over her shoulder, a sproingy reminder that all was not well with her hair. There was an itch between her shoulder blades, like phantom limbs wanted to stretch out and she pressed her back into the back of her chair to ease the sensation knowing those limbs weren’t so phantom after all.</p><p> </p><p>“Az?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, my dear?”</p><p> </p><p>“Can you walk me through those grounding exercises again?” she asked, hoping to keep the trembling out of her voice and failing. “I know them, but… I just…”</p><p> </p><p>“Of course,” Aziraphale assured her, covering her clammy hand with his own. “Let’s start at the beginning with a deep breath in and out.”</p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p> </p><p>Crowley clocked the hand gesture and scolded himself for obsessing over it. Aziraphale was murmuring something calming and comforting and eventually enough words floated down to where Crowley sat that he was able to piece together another grounding lesson. He nodded to himself. Probably wise to focus her. The way the girl was vibrating before, she might take the roof off the place if she got too wound up. </p><p> </p><p>Maybe they should take her someplace less populated… Just until she got a handle on this angelic business. St. David’s wouldn’t be too far a drive, although northern Scotland might be safer…</p><p> </p><p>Crowley was just about to make the suggestion when he felt the tickle of demonic presence skirting around his wards and his blood ran cold. Aziraphale and Thea both immediately looked at the door.</p><p> </p><p>“What is that?” she asked nervously. </p><p> </p><p>“An Archangel,” Aziraphale replied at the same time Crowley hissed, “Demons.” They looked at each other, perplexed for a moment, then nodded. <em> Both, </em> then. No surprise there. The moment they’d been expecting was finally upon them. Crowley just hoped Aziraphale had eaten enough. </p><p> </p><p>There was a knock at the door. Aziraphale was on his feet immediately, but Crowley beat him to the door,  It was another bloody disposable. He sneered at Crowley, but was less brave in the face of the Principality. </p><p> </p><p>“They are waiting for yo— “</p><p> </p><p>“Josh!” Thea exclaimed behind them, drawing everyone’s attention. She peered at the disposable fretfully for a moment. “Are you Josh? Or are you one of the other ones?”</p><p> </p><p>The disposable stared at Thea for a moment longer then returned to glaring at Crowley. “They are waiting for you on the roof,” he intoned then vanished. </p><p> </p><p>“Well, I suppose we ought to get this over with,” Aziraphale sighed. </p><p> </p><p>“I’d feel better about this if we had a plan,” Crowley growled. “I don’t suppose we could argue that our three months isn’t up yet?”</p><p> </p><p>“I suspect Gabriel will see Thea’s resurrection as a nullifying factor in our agreement,” Aziraphale responded dryly. He motioned for Thea to join them and she did, dragging her feet. It felt like a gallows walk for all three of them. Aziraphale set a comforting hand on her shoulder and Crowley side-eyed the touch once again. What was wrong with him? At a time like this he was acting possessive and jealous. And the worst part is that he couldn’t decide who he was being possessive and jealous of! Both simultaneously, he suspected. For different reasons. He really had a deep cavernous capacity for stupid and inconvient feelings.</p><p> </p><p>“You shouldn’t name the disposables, Thea,” Crowley joked, hoping to lighten his own mood if no one elses. “It’ll only make it harder when you have to smite them later.”</p><p> </p><p>“They call themselves Legion,” Thea answered coolly. Crowley frowned, feeling chastised and not understanding why.</p><p> </p><p>“I know this is probably a stupid question,” Crowley grumbled. “But, y’all right?”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m scared,” Thea admitted miserably. “I don’t know what’s going to happen. And there’s no point in talking about it because neither of you know what’s going to happen either. Nobody does.” They paused at the door that accessed the roof.  “When we go out there, I’m sure they’ll be acting like they know exactly what’s going to happen, but they don’t either. I don’t know why that feels worse but this whole thing is just a ridiculous clusterfuck and I can’t wrap my head around it.” She sighed. “Which I guess is the longform answer to no, I’m not all right. But I’ll pretend if it will make any of this easier.”</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t think pretense will matter,” Aziraphale replied softly. “But we might do well to stay as calm as possible and be clever about this.” He gave Crowley a pointed look and Crowley felt his stomach drop at the reminder of his previous stupidity. “I believe we’ll find a way out of this once we find an opening. Just as we did the last time.”</p><p> </p><p>“No offense, but… I kinda died the last time,” Thea grumbled, but Crowley met Aziraphale’s smiling eyes and nodded. He meant at the air base. Aziraphale’s gambit shook Gabriel and Beelzebub’s confidence in the ineffable plan/Great Plan. Crowley put his game face on and kicked open the door because if they were going out, they’d do it with style...</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>… and they were completely ignored by the party of demons and one archangel bickering loudly on the roof. </p><p> </p><p>"We had an agreement that this would be kept between us!" Gabriel spat, pointing an accusatory finger at Beelzebub. "They shouldn't be here!"</p><p> </p><p>'They' in this case were Hastur and three disposables. Thea shrank back at the sight of the duke and Crowley felt a nearly overwhelming wave of rage, his eyes pricked with heat, venom dripping down his lengthening fangs. The wind picked up, blowing the hair from their faces as they made their way further onto the roof.</p><p> </p><p>"Calm and clever," Aziraphale reminded him sternly.</p><p> </p><p>"I'll kill him," Crowley growled as a counteroffer. </p><p> </p><p>"They're here," Hastur announced and Beezlebub and Gabriel withdrew from their heated exchange to glare at Thea. Thea raised her chin, her orange eyes hard, brave, and the sky above them began to darken.</p><p> </p><p>"We still have another month as per our agreement!" Aziraphale blurted out. Crowley slowly turned to stare at him. </p><p> </p><p>Gabriel snapped his fingers and Thea vanished only to reappear in front of Gabriel and Beelzebub. Crowley snarled and surged forward but two of the disposables had popped up behind him, grabbing an arm each and pulling him to the gravel floor. The third disposable was helping Hastur to hold Aziraphale back. Crowley saw the duke put his slimy hands on Aziraphale's precious overcoat and he lost his mind, screaming obscenities and trying to thrash the minor demons from his arms. </p><p> </p><p>"Zzzilence!" Beelzebub shouted and eons of obsequiousness had Crowley biting back his fury, silently glaring at everyone and hating himself for it.</p><p> </p><p>Gabriel gently stared at Thea, unimpressed. "New look? He indicated her dark ringlets. "I like it. Very stylish. The eyes are a bold choice though," he sneered. "If you idiots are going to put a glamour on the girl you should pick a less… demonic colour."</p><p> </p><p>Glamour...Crowley started laughing. Aziraphale cast him a warning glance but he couldn't help himself. </p><p> </p><p>“They don't know," he crowed. "Satan's mighty prick! They don't even know!" </p><p> </p><p>"We know, all right," Gabriel growled at him. </p><p> </p><p>"Zis human died and was rezzurrected!" Beezlebub snarled. The flies around them buzzed furiously. "For all your talk about the natural order you didn't mind breaking it yourselvez!"</p><p> </p><p>"They didn't bring me back," Thea argued. "Death showed me the way. You're the only ones fucking around with the natural order.”</p><p> </p><p>“Death refused you?” Gabriel looked skeptical. “Why?”</p><p> </p><p>Thea frowned and sighed. “You’re an Archangel, my dude. Can’t you <em> see </em>why?”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley held his breath. The idiots thought she was under a glamour but it was only a matter of time before one of them noticed the girl’s new celestial aura. He supposed there wasn’t any point trying to hide it.  Gabriel stared at the girl impatiently for a moment and then his violet eyes widened in surprise a moment before Beelzebub lost whatever was left of their patience.</p><p>“It doesn’t matter why she is alive!” the Prince buzzed angrily. “She lives and she shouldn’t! You angels are too weak to do what muzzt be done!”</p><p> </p><p>“Thea!” Crowley tried to warn her, tried to shake the damn disposables off him but he felt another demon jump on his back, knocking him the rest of the way to the ground. He twisted, hissing furiously and saw Aziraphale becoming overwhelmed by disposables as well, freeing Hastur from his angel-wrangling duty. </p><p> </p><p>“What are you doing?” Gabriel growled at the Prince. “I’m sure I don’t have to remind you that those two idiots aren’t supposed to be harmed.”</p><p> </p><p>“They won’t be harmed, little angel,” Beelzebub sneered. “Juzt kept out of the way so they don’t interfere.”</p><p> </p><p>There was a threatening rumble in the sky. Gabriel glanced up, arching a brow, but Thea kept her eyes focused on Hastur as the duke crossed the roof towards her. Crowley snarled, pulling himself back to his hands and knees under the assault of the bloody disposables. “Thea! Go!” he urged her before slipping into his snake form and letting himself loose on the demons holding him and his angel.</p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p> </p><p>Thea stared back at Gabriel, smiling inwardly at the memory of coating him with ketchup. Wow, that had been a hilariously stupid move. Thankfully the Archangel had better self control than she did. It was weird to be thinking anything decent about Gabriel when he was here to mess up her life again, but there was something different about him. Something in the way he looked at her with a concerned little frown, even when he was being snide. A lack of confidence? That should be a good thing, shouldn’t it? The fucker could do with being taken down a peg or two. Thea frowned back at him, mirroring his look of concern as his orchid coloured eyes went wide at the realization of her new nature.</p><p> </p><p>And That was when Thea remembered she could do that too, and <em> truly </em> looked at the Archangel. His light, almost blinding this close, was a swirl of yellow and pale green. It had been red the first time she had seen him, arguing with Crowley and Aziraphale over her in her old shitty apartment. But it had been yellow when she’d seen him at the diner that day. And now… just a hint of green. The fucker was coming around! <em> He wasn’t hopeless </em>. This whole messed up situation wasn’t hopeless!</p><p> </p><p>“Thea! Go!”</p><p> </p><p>Thea blinked at the sound of her name, coming back to the present. Crowley looked wild as he shouted at her to go.<em> (Go where? Where was there left to go?) </em> His teeth flashed white with the lightning above them before he turned into a snake and went totally apeshit on the bunny demons. Not his twee little snake either. A fucking huge snake! It was almost enough to take her attention off Hastur.</p><p> </p><p>Almost.</p><p> </p><p>“Kill her,” Beelzebub demanded. Gabriel opened his mouth to say something, to argue, or to agree, or to just be snide, Thea didn’t hear what he said. She only heard the thunder in her ears.</p><p> </p><p>Hastur was close enough to smell him. The bogstench she would remember forever. The stench that came with the memory of Lynn screaming, the sound of Roan’s neck being snapped. The overwhelming feeling of hatred for someone she loved.</p><p> </p><p>No. He killed her once already and it didn’t stick. He didn’t get a second try. Her new shiny brown curls lifted around her shoulders as the ozone flowed around her. She felt the tremor in the gravel under her feet, the energy singing through her veins. She knew this power better than she knew the wings that suddenly unfurled from her back as she reached for the sky. She knew how to use it and this was the moment she’d been waiting for.</p><p> </p><p>She brought down the sky.</p><p> </p><p><em> It's loss </em>, she thought as the world blanked out into deafening whiteness. Oh, how she had lost. She lost her family when she came out as bisexual. She lost her best friend when she refused to come out as gay. She lost her hometown and her old school and playgrounds and the maple tree outside her grandmother's house that she would climb higher than the rooftops and sing to the geese in the nearby pond. She'd named him Papa Mapes and he was as good as family to her.</p><p> </p><p>These losses didn't hurt as much when she found Anna. She found a new town and a new family. Anna's family were religious but accepting, if incredibly ill-informed. It was a struggle that hurt Anna, but the love was always there under it all. It was the first time Thea had seen that kind of bond. It gave her hope.</p><p> </p><p>She lost that family when she lost Anna. It was too difficult for them to see Thea so miraculously unharmed and Anna gone from the world. </p><p> </p><p>She lost her connection to Anna, the cottage, the lake, the sprawl of new Papa Mapeses. She lost her Country answering the strange pull to London.</p><p> </p><p>A new land. A new world. A new family. And she'd nearly lost them too. She'd nearly lost Lynn. She'd nearly lost Crowley. She had lost Roan. She had lost herself.</p><p> </p><p>Even losing <em> Josh </em> hurt. It hurt to lose. It hurt. </p><p> </p><p>It hurt to love.</p><p> </p><p>It was love. The love she still had for her family who raised her best they could before abandoning her due to their ignorance. She loved her trees and geese and music. She loved Anna always and her wild country and the people she had left behind in their mourning. She loved her friends in London, she loved her godparents and her new life. She loved the Heaven and Hell of it all. She loved the world and its fragility. She loved all that she had lost and all she had still to lose. </p><p> </p><p>It wasn't <em> loss </em>. There was nothing in loss to protect. It was love!</p><p> </p><p>And she would use it to kick some serious ass right the fuck now!</p><p> </p><p>She could smell the clean scent of autumn leaves on the wind as she stretched her wings. She felt the cold slick freshness of frost on her fingertips. The buildings around her shimmered pink and granite, echoes of the Canadian Shield at high summer.</p><p> </p><p>Hastur's evil face appeared before her, black eyes wide in shock.</p><p> </p><p>“This isn’t even my final form,” she hissed at him, showing her fangs, her long black claws. The sky came down, the light washed the roof clean. It wasn’t a smiting, or Hellfire. In her heart she knew it would hurt angels and demons alike. It would hurt anyone, everyone. Unless their light was green like the lightning.</p><p> </p><p>Hastur was gone when the light cleared. There was an oily burn on the gravel at her feet where the duke had once stood. Aziraphale and Crowley (who’d popped back to his human form again) were getting to their feet, unharmed, all the Legion demons having vanished too. Thea felt exhilarated as she grinned at them, letting out a loud whoop of victory and giggling. Her godparents weren’t smiling though. “Shit,” she sighed, pivoting to look behind her.</p><p> </p><p>Gabriel and Beelzebub were also getting to their feet, and although they both seemed a little singed, they certainly weren’t badly hurt.</p><p> </p><p>“Abomination!” the Prince screamed at her, flies spilling from their mouth. Thea flinched, instinctively throwing her arm (and wing!) up to protect herself. The buzzing was loud, the feeling of rage, hatred and fear was nauseating, but nothing happened. Thea peeked over her wing only to see a wall of white feathers between herself and the Prince of Hell.</p><p> </p><p>“Az…” she squeaked, afraid for him. The angel’s warm hand appeared on her shoulder. Crowley clasped her hand and together they drew her backwards with them pulling her away from the Archangel who had stepped up to protect her.</p><p> </p><p>“Beez,” Gabriel laughed. “I <em> know </em> you aren’t really going to attack an angel in front of me and another Principality.”</p><p> </p><p>Beelzebub glared hatefully at Gabriel and shrieked in frustration. Gabriel didn’t even flinch. Aziraphale squeezed Thea’s shoulder and pressed her closer to Crowley before joining the Archangel and unfurling his own shining white wings.</p><p> </p><p>“Thea is an angel now,” Aziraphale agreed, lending his support to Gabriel’s implied threat. “And she isn’t to be harmed.”</p><p> </p><p>“You’re all inzzzane!” Beezlebub snarled. “Fine. Angel it is, then. It is Heaven’s problem. I wash my hands of it!”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh Beez. You finally washed your hands!” Gabriel teased. Beelzebub’s glare faltered and something vaguely reminiscent of a fond smirk crawled over their face so briefly Thea thought she’d imagined it. Then they were gone.</p><p> </p><p>Gabriel looked out over the city silently for a couple minutes as Aziraphale hid his wings, and motioned for Thea to do the same. She blinked at him in incomprehension for a second before remembering that was something she had to do now. </p><p> </p><p>“How did this happen?” Gabriel asked finally. He turned toward the three of them and looked tired. Thea felt a sudden urge to slap the shit out of him but reined it in. How dare he look tired? He started this and left, happy for her to dissolve into nothingness for no better reason that maybe making Aziraphale and Crowley a bit annoyed.</p><p> </p><p>“We’re not sure,” Aziraphale answered. “Her true nature didn’t make itself known to us until she…” he cleared his throat. “Well. Until she rose from the dead, I suppose.”</p><p> </p><p>“Well… however it happened, she <em> is </em> an angel so she’ll have to come back with me,” Gabriel sighed as if he were begrudgingly doing them all a favour. Aziraphale’s wings immediately unfurled again and Crowley hissed loudly.</p><p> </p><p>“No thanks!” Thea squeaked, backing away. “I’m fine here.”</p><p> </p><p>“You don’t belong here,” Gabriel explained. “You have no idea what it means to be an angel. Just do what you’re told and come with me. Maybe, in time, you will even lose those claws and teeth.”</p><p> </p><p>“Is this not what you wanted?” Thea snapped, angry at the second round of insults. “You know, when you and that walking food safety violation made me?”</p><p> </p><p>“Humans don’t become angels,” Gabriel responded, unfazed. “<em> I </em> didn’t make you this way.”</p><p> </p><p>“Will the others see it that way?” Aziraphale asked. His tone was polite and curious. His expression was 100% full bastard. “I imagine it will cause quite a stir when you bring a brand new immortal being up to Heaven.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, tha’s true,” Crowley nodded with a sly smile. “Nothing exciting happens up there. This will be big news. Everyone will be wondering how it happened.”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, I certainly wouldn’t lie about it,” Thea agreed. “I’m an angel, after all. I guess I’d have no choice but to tell everyone and anyone who created me.”</p><p> </p><p>“And why,” Aziraphale added, a not so friendly reminder that Gabriel had gone against the spirit of the order to leave him and Crowley alone. Thea smiled.</p><p> </p><p>“And who they were working with, don’t forget,” Crowley added helpfully.</p><p> </p><p>“Right. Of course,” Thea nodded. “A full and accurate accounting. That’s the right thing to do, isn’t it?”</p><p> </p><p>Gabriel glared at them all and whatever shades of green had been in his light faded. </p><p> </p><p>“I hate this planet,” he grumbled and vanished without another word.</p><p> </p><p>Thea wrapped her arms around herself, a cautious trickle of relief starting in her chest. She half expected something else to happen. Gabriel would change his mind and snap her up to Heaven, or Beelzebub reappearing now that Gabriel had left and drowning her in flies. She could almost feel the seconds tick by as the clouds parted to show the pink and orange sunset.</p><p> </p><p>She closed her eyes and waited for the next emergency. She was so sure something would go wrong that she screamed when Crowley suddenly snatched her up in one arm, yanked Aziraphale to him with the other and snapped them back into his flat.</p><p> </p><p>“Wards,” he told them, in answer to their puzzled expressions. “Just in case.”</p><p> </p><p>“A sensible precaution,” Aziraphale agreed, although his tone suggested he was placating Crowley more than agreeing with him. “I suspect Gabriel will begin actively distancing himself from Thea now, but Beelzebub seemed quite furious.”</p><p> </p><p>“Meh. They’re always furious,” Crowley shrugged. “I think they’re probably content to have this be Gabriel’s problem. Clears Thea off their books, her being an angel.”</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale nodded thoughtfully and Thea just tried not to think at all. It was starting to look like it was over. Thea hadn’t expected to survive this ordeal so she had no plan for what to do next. It felt like her having survived or not could also be up for debate. That felt like too steep a cliff to look over right now. The vertigo was already setting in and she felt frozen to the spot, sure she was in for a nasty fall. Aziraphale and Crowley continued to discuss what to expect of Above and Below, and Thea barely heard them. Shock was setting in. Could she even go into shock? Every question felt like an existential one. She didn’t feel real anymore and it suddenly struck her that she was in mourning. If this ordeal was over, she was no longer these idiots' responsibility. Would they keep her around? She was a total third wheel and they had a massive amount of shit to work out. Should she go home? Did she have a home left?</p><p> </p><p>“I… I  know I said I wasn’t... going to ask this,” Thea stuttered, feeling light-headed and on the verge of tears. “What’s going to happen to me?” Aziraphale and Crowley halted their quiet discussion to glance over at her then the angel had her tucked under his arm in an instant, leading her to the sofa. </p><p> </p><p>“You are white as a ghost, dear girl. Sit down.” He snapped and summoned her a cup of tea, pressing it into her hands. Thea scowled at it, thinking about how much she hated these delicate porcelain relics and then blinked in surprise to find it had transformed into a nice solid mug of coffee. Aziraphale scoffed at that and the coffee turned into something hot and herbal and no doubt calming. Thea pouted at him and but Aziraphale expression said <em> drink it or so help me </em> and Thea decided the mug was compromise enough and she could probably do for something calming right now, and sipped it. <em> Chamomile. Gross. </em>Why wasn’t Crowley saving her from this? Oh, she was making jokes again and wasn’t about to cry! Maybe Chamomile works! No. Chamomile was definitely disgusting and useless. She’d try to turn this into hot chocolate the second Aziraphale turned his back.</p><p> </p><p>“You’ll stay here for the night,” Crowley told her, and he too was using the <em> do as you’re told or so help me </em> face. “It’s probably over but safer to stay in the wards for a bit. Where we can keep an eye on you.”</p><p> </p><p>“And if it’s over?” Thea croaked, feeling emotional again.</p><p> </p><p>“S’a good thing, issnit?” Crowley seemed confused and Thea looked down at her mug and nodded. </p><p> </p><p>“I’d imagine the sky’s the limit,” Aziraphale smiled. “You mentioned in your sketchbook that you’d wished to study in Paris. You could do that.”</p><p> </p><p>Thea sniffed and looked up at the angel hopefully. “I could?”</p><p> </p><p>“We’d set you up with a decent stipend,” Aziraphale glanced at Crowley as he said this as if to gauge his agreement. The demon rolled his eyes, but Thea saw the small smile and started to feel a bit excited. She’d dreamed of studying at Beaux-Arts or any of the Parisian art collages. She’d never believed she could have the opportunity before…</p><p> </p><p>“And Paris isn’t too far away,” Aziraphale continued. “We could stay in touch easily. I might even get a cellular and learn how to text.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oi!” Crowley complained. “I’ve been trying to get you one for bleeding decades and all she has to do is dream of France and—”</p><p> </p><p>“Well <em> Thea </em> might actually teach me to use the blasted thing,” Aziraphale sniffed. “Rather than badger me and yell every time I do something wrong until I’m forced to give up the entire enterprise for my own peace and sanity.”</p><p> </p><p>The two instantly dissolved into fond bickering and Thea smiled and turned the tea into hot chocolate. </p><p> </p><p>*****</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>It was a strange week of precious little sleep and far too many soppy sentimental feelings. So when everything was set up for Thea to start school next month and her supplies had been packed up and sent ahead, Crowley told himself he would be happy to see the back of her. He and Aziraphale had their own globe-trotting plans to look forward to anyway. </p><p> </p><p>Crowley leaned against the taxi, keeping the cabby entertained with some banter, and more importantly keeping him patient with a few miracles. Aziraphale was holding the girl up in the lobby with what was no doubt a litany of last-minute advice and cuddling.</p><p> </p><p>Finally Thea emerged from the building and Crowley grinned at her. A couple days ago she seemed to take to the idea of having ‘a signature outfit’ like her godparents and after a full day of experimentation had settled on this one. A cerulean henley under a cream coloured waistcoat reminiscent of Aziraphale’s fawn one. Faded blue jeans and grey converse trainers and knee-length stone-grey hooded cardigan completed her look. The rosegold letter A was back, hanging between her collarbones, and her unruly curls were loosely bound in a thick plait. She had finally managed to shorten her canine teeth back to human proportions after biting her tongue several times. There wasn’t much she could do about her pumpkin-coloured eyes, but at least she could pass it off as a defect and be reasonably believed.</p><p> </p><p>“You think it will be okay?” she asked him, pointing to her eyes with a cautious smile. “I’d cover them, but I know how you are about people copying your style.”</p><p> </p><p>“You’ll be fine,” he smirked. “And the outfit looks good, like the waistcoat with trainers. Very you.”</p><p>She grinned at him excitedly as the cabby took her carryon and placed it in the boot. Crowley chewed the inside of his cheek for a moment then grumbled and took off his scarf, looping it over her head. </p><p> </p><p>“Wow!” she gasped.</p><p> </p><p>“Shaddup,” he muttered and pulled her into an embrace that was more constrictor squeeze than hug. “Listen, don’t fall in love with the first French girl to smile at you, text us at least once a month, visit time to time and, shit… the next time you yell at me and tell me I’m not your real dad just... Don’t.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh,” Thea squeezed him back (not a hug) and let go before it got too weird. Her eyes were a bit damp but she kept it together with a smile and a nod. “Cool. I’ll remember that.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeh. Whatever. Go away,” Crowley grunted, stepping away from her as Aziraphale joined them, beaming a tearful smile.</p><p> </p><p>“Mind how you go, dear,” he hugged her again.</p><p> </p><p>Thea slid into the taxi but Crowley caught the door before she could close it and passed her an envelope. “Open it when you’re on your way,” he told her. It held the information of the sale of the cottage and the transfer of property into her name. He’d meant it to be a surprise mostly so he could avoid dealing with any goopy feelings over it. There was already far too much emotion on this bloody kerb. Thea took the envelope and tucked it in her bag.  Crowley closed the door and Thea gave them a final wave and was soon out of sight.</p><p> </p><p>“Did you actually give her your scarf?” Aziraphale smirked.</p><p> </p><p>“Shaddup,” Crowley snarked, summoning up a fresh one. “It was out of pity. Needed it to pull that outfit together.”</p><p> </p><p>“Of course,” Aziraphale chuckled. “A sartorial necessity.” </p><p> </p><p>They lapsed into comfortable silence on the way back up to his flat, both lost in their own thoughts. Crowley poured them both a glass of champagne and they reclined on the sofa together. </p><p> </p><p>“To Thea,” Crowley raised his glass in a toast.</p><p> </p><p>“To Thea,” Aziraphale gushed, clinking his glass lightly. They both sipped and thought and silence fell around them.</p><p> </p><p>“Did we just unleash an uncontrolled fledgling celestial on an unsuspecting France?” Crowley asked after a few more minutes of silent contemplation. </p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale snorted into his champagne and coughed, fishing out a handkerchief. “You know, I think we did,” he laughed. “Oh dear. I suppose we should probably… fetch her back?”</p><p> </p><p>“Meh,” Crowley shrugged, taking another sip. “Let’s give her a week, at least.”</p><p> </p><p>“Quite right,” Aziraphale nodded. “What could happen in a week?”</p><p> </p><p>They sat, they sipped, they thought.</p><p> </p><p>“Right. Let’s go,” Crowley directed, tossing the Bentley’s keys in his palm. Aziraphale laughed and took his arm and they departed together to save France.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <em>But there will come a time</em>
</p><p>
  <em>You'll see, with no more tears</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And love will not break your heart</em>
</p><p>
  <em>But dismiss your fears</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Get over your hill and see</em>
</p><p>
  <em>What you find there</em>
</p><p>
  <em>With grace in your heart</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And flowers in your hair</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em><span class="u"> After The Storm </span> by Mumford &amp; Sons</em>
</p><p><br/>
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</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This is it for The Unforeseen for a bit while I map out the sequel. Thanks again for reading. I am so grateful to all of you who have left comments and given me the strength to keep working on this. It has been a journey! You’re all awesome and deserve all the high-fives!</p><p>If you enjoyed this story and want to know when the sequel drops (as well as any short stories set in the Unforeseen universe please subscribe to the<br/><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/series/2185557">Earthly Principalities Series</a>, and, of course the <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/series/1959781">Carpe Demon Series</a> for smutty adventures.</p><p>If you are interested in the sequel and have time for another long multichapter fic, please check out <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27659161/chapters/67682116">Forsaken</a>. It is set in another universe, but introduces a new OC that will play a role in the Unforeseen sequel. Plus it is just some good angsty fun.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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